


"Of Course, Mr. Collins"

by Wilde_Abandon



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: ALL THE PLOT!, Conventions, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Kids, Multi, Poly, Probably Angst Somewhere, Probably More - No Clue, Slow Build, Tawdry Behavior, Travel, first fic, fluff too, personal assistant, smut incoming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 50,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilde_Abandon/pseuds/Wilde_Abandon
Summary: Reader lost her job and finds a new one as personal assistant to Misha Collins. Travel, busy schedules and an obscenely attractive boss might be the best thing to ever happen to the reader, but certainly not the easiest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First time writing, would love feedback :D
> 
> Wanna read this fic in color? Visit my Tumblr Blog! https://wilde-abandon.tumblr.com/masterlist
> 
> Will update as the story progresses!
> 
> Love to Misha and Vicki, no disrespect intended <3

 

## 

## CHAPTER ONE

Steam rose languidly from the mug in your hands, disappearing into the frigid autumn air.  When you were called into the office by your boss, the conversation had been unexpected; “So...here's the thing…” **  
**

You'd worked for the small, independent pet store for nearly five years, building a steady clientele with repeat customers and forming relationships with the owners. You'd watched their children grow up and had formed a close bond with the shop cats, local celebrities in their own right.

“I can't afford you anymore. I'm sorry, but the business just can't support your position here at this time. It's nothing personal..”

Your mind was still reeling a week later. While you'd worked for substantially less than what similar positions in the area were paying, you'd stayed out of loyalty. You'd been comfortable in your position and while you'd consistently told everyone that you were looking for new opportunities, you hadn't been in a particular hurry to do so.

With a resigned sigh, you turned from the balcony of your third-floor apartment, closing the sliding glass door just in time to prevent the cat from slipping out. “Don't give me that look, you'd freeze your tail off out there.” Stooping to lift the disgruntled animal into your arms, you ran your hands through the silky grey fur, pausing to scratch under her chin. Your efforts were rewarded with a look of indignation as she clambered up your shoulder onto her carpeted perch.

Refilling your tea, you pulled out the chair of your desk, determined to find a job. Sure, you'd had a few interviews, but there had also been just as many emails informing you that the employer had decided to pursue other candidates.

“Ms. Wilde,

Thank you for applying to our internship program. There were a record number of applicants this year and the competition was fierce. At this time, we've decided to move forward with other candidates. Please keep Dark Jackal Studios in mind should you be looking for illustration opportunities in the future.

Kind Regards,

Kimberly Roberts

Dark Jackal Recruiting Division”

“Well, I'm looking for work now, so you telling me to re-apply in the future doesn't exactly do me any good, now does it?!”

Deleting the message, you began sifting through the hundreds of job listings of a local online directory. “Drive with Swift and earn $2,000 your first month...guaranteed!” “Medical research study needs participants, apply now!” “Hot girls wanted for bikini barista position…” “Personal Assistant.”

Intrigued, you click the link, images of a stuffy tech mogul in a sweater vest ranting about his latte danced through your mind.

“Personal assistant needed to accompany local philanthropist to meetings, schedule appointments, run errands, and fetch tea. Must enjoy helping others and be able to work well under pressure. Experience with social media preferred. Traveling required.”

“Huh, that sounds interesting. Pretty sure I can handle being someone's gopher for awhile.”

Copying the contact information, you compose a new email. After attaching your resume and a including a brief message on why you think you'd be a good fit for the position you hit the send button.

After another hour of applications read and resumes sent, you push back from your seat, arms stretched above your head, a groan of fatigue startling the cat perched on your knee. “I think we've earned a break, don't you?” Golden-green eyes stared up at you from the toffee colored face, a slow blink and rumbling purr all the affirmation you needed. “Whoever says their job is the hardest thing they've done has clearly never been out of work during the holidays.”

Unplugging your phone from the kitchen wall, you wander into the living room, flopping down on the dilapidated couch. Flicking open the lock screen you smile at the wallpaper. Taken on vacation in Norway, the Scandinavian coastline stretched for miles, your sister and best friend stretched their arms around your fluffy blue parka, the black faux fur of the hood blowing into your face.

Scrolling through your social media accounts distracted you for awhile, and when you became bored with that, there were plenty of games you had to tend to. Cheap thrills were the only entertainment you could afford at the moment. You had to admit, planting rows of corn and milking pixelated cows amused you.

The sound of breaking blocks was interrupted as the melodic anthem from Game of Thrones pierced the relative quiet of your evening activities. Glancing at the unfamiliar phone number, you very nearly sent it to voicemail. The last thing you wanted to deal with was someone asking for money that you were running desperately low on.

Swiping the green icon pulsing insistently on the screen, you raised the phone to your ear, the idea that people still used phones for their original purpose something of an anomaly to you.

“Hello?” “Hello, could I please speak to Ms. Wilde?” The smooth voice on the other side of the phone was deep, and oddly familiar. “This is [Y/F/N], may I ask who's calling?” “Hello Ms. Wilde, you recently responded to my ad, the one for the personal assistant? Do you have a moment to chat?”

Sitting up a little too fast, you dump the cat reclining in your lap to the ground. “Yes!” Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath, calmly trying to convince yourself that first impressions are important.. “Yes, now works just fine.” A deep chuckle rumbled through the line, the sound similar to an approaching thunderstorm. “Well, why don't you tell me about yourself and what you're looking for in this position?”

Summoning your best professional demeanor, you explained your qualifications and reiterated why you felt you'd be good for the job.

“I see...and what do you like to do for fun?” “Uh..excuse me?” “Fun. You know..what do you geek out over? It can't possibly be trying to convince some stranger that you need a job. While the demands of this position are extensive, I value personal time to recharge. Work hard, play hard and all of that.”

You wondered briefly if you were applying to be a glorified babysitter. Tracing your thumb over the pewter band wrapped around your left ring finger, you smiled at the intersecting wings. Not typically one for jewelry, it had reminded you of your favorite character on Supernatural. While you wore the ring where a wedding band would traditionally sit, it had been a gift and was instead a comforting reminder of the angel who had unceremoniously waltzed into your life and ruined everything.

“Ms. Wilde?” “Are you still there?”  

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry.” More laughter. “No need to apologize.  Without much thought, you off-handedly mention your enjoyment for writing stories and traveling, especially to conventions, which was true, though not something you necessarily thought much of. “Hmm, that does seem fun. What genre do you write?” You blush, but realizing he wouldn’t be able to see it over the phone - managed to clarify your love of fiction. “Tell me, what's one strength you possess and one weakness?” You could hear the man scribbling notes in the background.

Several canned responses invade your thoughts, but you decide instead to opt for an honest answer. “Well, I'm very proud of my organizational skills, but I'm afraid I'm a bit of a day-dreamer.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you grimaced. A busy entrepreneur and philanthropist wasn't going to hire someone who dreamed about hunting monsters with prohibitively handsome fictional men.

“Well Ms. Wilde, I feel like this conversation has gone well. Would you be interested in a second interview?”

“I understa.., wait...really?” “Certainly. I've spoken with several applicants, but you seem the most genuine of the group. While I'd have preferred someone with more experience, if things go well when we meet at my home office in Bellingham, I feel like you might be a good fit.”

“Bellingham?” “Yes, Ms. Wilde, I live in Bellingham. Will that be a problem?”

The advertisement did say that travel would be required of you, though this wasn’t what you had had in mind. Cringing at the concept of a brutally long commute each day, this was the first offer for a second interview you'd received and you couldn’t pass on the opportunity simply because you despised driving.

“No sir, that will be just fine.” “Good. It's settled then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader Arrives for her Interview in Bellingam.

**CHAPTER TWO**

The following morning, you awoke early. Dragging yourself from the warm pile of blankets on your bed, you shuffled into the bathroom - steam filling the small space when you twisted the hot water on as far as it would go.  
You knew blowing out your waist-length [Y/H/C] hair would take awhile and you'd foolishly agreed to meet your potential new boss at the ungodly hour of 8am.  
Selecting a black ruched pencil skirt and tailored blazer from your wardrobe, you paired it with a soft [Y/E/C] shirt, the fabric was close-fitting and matched the exact color of your eyes.  
Glancing at the illuminated blue numbers on your alarm clock, you cursed silently under your breath. You'd need to hurry if you were going to make your meeting on time. After quickly applying a layer of black eyeliner, your make-up was finished. Grabbing your wallet, phone and keys, you quickly said goodbye to your two cats before running out the door.

An hour later you were approaching Bellingham. From what you'd been able to discern, it was a fairly sleepy community. There was a main road lined with cobblestone pathways and small shops selling everything from tourist souvenirs to hand crafted yarn. It was clear that small businesses were appreciated here and the thought made you smile. You'd grown up in a similar sort of town.

Driving another fifteen minutes led you into a rather ordinary residential area. Not exactly what you'd imagined from someone in need of a personal assistant.  
Parking in front of a well manicured lawn, you stared down at the scrap of paper in your hand, the looping handwritten address smearing a bit around the edges. Looking up at the house that belonged to the address written on the paper, you began to wonder if this was some elaborate prank set up by your friends.

With a deep breath, you opened your door, and stepped from the car, the soft click of the locks sliding into place as you approached the stone steps leading up to the front of the house. A cheery cedar wreath hung on the heavy oak door.  
As your knuckles rapped on the wood, peals of laughter erupted from within. Convinced that this was indeed some giant game, you resolved to give whoever opened that door a piece of your mind. “Hilarious guys...real funny.” Grumbling under your breath, you raise your fist to knock a second time, but hesitate as the sound of the deadbolt shifts.

Pulling the door open, a dark-haired, middle aged man stared down at his right leg, where a small girl had wrapped her arms and legs, giggling as he half-heartedly attempted to shake her off. The easy grin that settled into the man’s face was familiar and your breath hitched in your throat as he raised intense blue eyes to meet your [Y/E/C] ones.

You were standing in front of Misha Fucking Collins.

Inwardly, you might’ve screamed, but were proud of your ability to mask it with a quiet cough; squaring your shoulders and extending a hand to shake his outstretched one. “I’m sorry, I think I must have the wrong house?” “Is this 1822 Birch?” Stepping back, you look at the front of the structure, searching for numbers, eyes wild. _“Well, that depends, judging by your attire, I’m guessing you’re either a very thoughtful gift from my wife...or you’re here for the interview?”_ Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Erm...the second one.” _“You must be Ms. [Y/L/N], please, come in.”_ Following Misha over the threshold, you note heavy wooden furniture clustered around a stone fireplace, a lively flame danced over cedar logs, filling the room with a warm welcome.

 

_Misha’s broad shoulders strained under the weight of the lumber, his breathing labored as he fed the hand-made curving beams through the planer, ensuring the bed frame would be evenly thick throughout._

_Sweat beaded across his temples, and, reaching down he tugged on the hem of his steel-grey tee shirt, deftly wiping the perspiration from his face before it had the chance to run into his eyes, a soft grunt sounding as the shirt dropped back to cover his briefly exposed skin._

 

Chastising yourself, your eyes re-focused - effectively snapping out of the daydream. You flushed, thankful Misha hadn’t noticed. So he’d made all of the furniture in the house he’d also built with his own hands, big deal, loads of people have probably done the same...right? If you had any hope of being his personal assistant, drifting off into your own perceived version of events that may - or may not - have actually happened, was going to have to be done on your own time.

 _“Ms. [Y/L/N], have you ever worked as a personal assistant?”_ Lowering himself to the couch, Misha gestured for you to sit as well. Perching on the edge of the adjacent chair, you thought about the question. Misha stared into your [Y/E/C] eyes, the entirety of his attention trained on you. At some point, presumably when you were lost in your -ahem- thoughts...Misha had managed to disentangle his leg from the small child, who now sat at his feet, playing quietly.

Steeling yourself, you answered the question. “Well...no, but--” _“I see, and what experience do you have with coordinating a schedule that isn’t your own?”_ “Uhm, well actually I--”

The woman sitting in front of him was nervous, her fingers clumsily tugged at the corners of her blazer, the soft cotton shirt stretching over the curve of her breasts betrayed her frenzied heartbeat. Sighing, he rose, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

_“Ms. [Y/L/N]...”_

“[Y/F/N].”

 _“[Y/F/N], I assume your nerves aren’t due to the distressing concept of a measly job interview, am I mistaken?”_ Not trusting yourself to speak, you shake your head, breath bated. _“So, out with it then. Where’s the candid, entertaining person I spoke with on the phone yesterday?”_ “Well, yesterday, I wasn’t aware I was speaking to Misha Collins.” The look of exasperation spreading over your features caused Misha to laugh, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest.

Sighing, his grip on your shoulder tightened briefly, his thumb rubbing soft circles of comfort across the surface. _“[Y/F/N], I’m just a normal guy, I buy groceries for my family, I burn dinner, hell, I even wash my own laundry.”_ The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth made your stomach clench, your eyes flicking to his hand, still resting on your shoulder. “Hah, seems like you don’t need me after all.” you quipped. Eyes locking onto his, shoulders squaring as you sat up straight, a newfound confidence replaced the nerves. After the snarky remark, easing into a regular conversation became second nature.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader earns the position she applied for previously.

**CHAPTER THREE**

At first, Misha thought you weren’t going to be a good fit. Unfortunately for him, being somewhat recognizable was both a blessing and a curse. While he could use his recognition to inspire people to make the world a better place, it too prevented him from being a regular guy. He’d had a few assistants over the years, none of them staying longer than a stretch of a few months at a time.

 _“Listen [Y/F/N], you seem qualified for the position, but I need to stress to you that this is a busy and often hectic job. I need to be able to trust you with parts of my life that are private. Additionally, I’m often away from home for several months at a time. You would need to be comfortable accompanying me when I am required to travel. Your expenses will be paid of course but it takes a special kind of family to understand why you’d be gone most of the time. Will your family be supportive of you in this position?”_ The man’s eyes again searched yours. “Well, yeah I mean they don--” Misha tensed as the phone in his pocket began to ring. _“Please excuse me for just a moment [Y/F/N].”_  Standing and striding towards the next room, he stopped suddenly a few feet away, looking back over his shoulder at the small child who lie on the floor, a stuffed cat held aloft in her tiny fists.

Seeing the opportunity to prove yourself, you immediately stood from the chair you were perched on, waving Misha on to take his phone call. While you hadn’t implicitly spent _a lot_ of time around small children, you were confident you could entertain the kid for a few minutes while Misha was in the next room. With a quick smile and silent _“thank you”_ he stepped out of the living room, finally greeting whoever waited on the other line.

Turning your head in interest, you lowered yourself to the floor, crossing your legs politely to maintain some modicum of decency. While your skirt wasn’t terribly short, if you weren’t careful, you’d flash the entire world the black lacy boy-shorts you wore beneath it.

Waving to the girl, you smiled as she looked over at you. “Ki-ki!” Thrusting the toy at you exuberantly, the girl giggled. You took note of the one missing eye and how the stitching had come loose around the slightly off-colored orange legs. “That’s a great kitty, are kitties your favorite animal?” “Ki-Ki!” “They’re my favorite too. Did you know? I have two ki-ki’s at home.” The little girls blue eyes widened, a delightful squeal marking her excitement.

Misha stood framed in the doorway, one shoulder supporting his weight as he stared down at you playing with his daughter. Very few of his assistants had liked his kids, and never had they volunteered to entertain them. _“Yeah Vic, I think she’ll be a great fit. She’s playing with Maison. No, like, she’s down on her stomach in a three piece suit, rolling around with our daughter.” “Mmhmm. Yeah. Okay. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”_

His thumb swiped the red icon, ending the call with his wife before he stuffed the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. A smile ghosted over his face when you laughed, brushing a strand of blonde hair from the child’s eyes. His breath hitching when you rose your feet into the air, idly kicking them as you reached out to stack several of Maison’s blocks, your long hair pooling on the floor around you.

 _“Hey, [Y/F/N], thanks for watching Maison for me.”_ Startling, you hurried into a sitting position, quickly folding your legs beneath you. “Oh! Sure.. uh..sorry - this probably isn’t very profes--” “ _When can you start?”_ Cutting you off, the tall man cocked his head to the side, and you thought you saw something like hunger in his dark eyes before he turned towards the substantial sideboard lining the wall. Lifting a sheaf of crisp, white paper from it’s surface, he turned back to you, extending his hand, the contents firm in his grip. _“Your contract, Ms. [Y/L/N].”_

Several minutes later you were back in the overstuffed chair from earlier, flipping through the substantial document. Having never worked as a personal assistant, you were surprised that most of the paperwork was fairly standard. You had to admit that reading through your new responsibilities intrigued you. Expecting the lines detailing mail pick-up, message taking and ~~coffee~~ tea fetching; you hadn’t anticipated the clause on your work hours.

_“Due to the nature of the position and the extent with which Mr. Collins is away from home, as his personal assistant - it is not uncommon to be called upon at any time of the day and for any reason.”_

“Uhm, Mr. Collins, it sa--” A low groan tore your attention from the papers on your lap and you glanced up to see Misha, his back turned to you, one hand raking through his now disheveled hair. A look of concern spread over your features as you sat forward, wondering if everything was okay.

Damnit, the girl hadn’t even signed her contract yet and she was driving him crazy. There she sat, the pile of papers perched on her knee, her lower lip caught between her teeth as her brows furrowed. She must’ve gotten to the part about being available 24/7, he mused. Truthfully, he rarely needed his assistants to be at his beck and call, but he had included the clause to cover his ass after the las--

 _Fuck! Did she just call me “Mr. Collins?”_ Misha’s heart thudded in his chest, drowning out his uneven breathing. Turning to look at the girl, he almost lost it when she raised her face to his, her [Y/E/C] eyes wide with...what...concern? Damn if those kohl rimmed beauties wouldn’t torment him long after this night, the dusting of soft freckles spreading over her nose framing their brilliance.

  
Advancing towards the girl, he, at the last moment, cleared his throat before leaning over her, hands gripping the cream colored arm-rests as tension radiated through his forearms. _“Misha.”_ “Excuse me?” The girl’s [Y/E/C] eyes darted back and forth between his intense cobalt ones, the edges bleeding to a deep navy. _“Misha. Just..call me Misha.”_ He could hear the heavy thud of [Y/F/N]’s heart, her shoulders rose and fell with a shudder, lips parted. “Miishaa..” The sigh of his name from her perfect mouth elicited another strangled groan to form in his mind, and he dug his fingers into the chair so as not to reach out and touch her. The sound of keys in the front door tore him from his reverie and he straightened, striding from the room to meet his wife.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader meets Vicki for the first time.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

No sooner had her key fit into the lock than the door was yanked open, very nearly causing Vicki to drop the two paper bags she had been juggling in her attempt to get inside. “Wha--?!” But Misha had pulled the woman over the threshold, pushing her up against the wall in the foyer, one arm wound tightly around her waist, the other braced on the wall above her. His mouth found hers in an instant, lips frenzied, feeding at her own with an intense need. Breaking away from the heated kiss, his wife tilted her head to the side, confusion etched on her face. “I’m certainly not complaining, but what was that!?” Rather than a direct answer, Misha lowered his lips to his wife’s jaw, leaving small open-mouthed kisses up to her ear. Dragging his teeth across her ear lobe, he sighed _“She called me Mr. Collins…, and I don’t know why, but fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing…”_

“Wait, is [Y/F/N] still here?” Her eyebrows disappeared into the thick hair that had fallen over her eyes and she looked over Misha’s shoulder, in search of you.  
Nodding, the man stepped back, relieving her of one shopping bag before inclining his head in invitation to follow.

You’d very nearly stopped breathing as Misha stood over you, knuckles white in the force of his grip on your chair. You couldn’t tell if he’d been angry or trying very hard not to touch you. No, that wasn’t it - why would he? You half laugh at the absurdity of the notion. His voice swam in your mind yet again; _“Misha...just..Misha.”_ Still, you had no idea what could have upset him if that was the case. Your reflections were cut short as Misha stepped back into the room, the fingers of one hand threaded through one belonging to who you assumed to be his wife, the other clutching a paper shopping bag; greens sprouting from the top. _“[Y/F/N], this is Vicki, my wife. Vicki, this is [Y/F/N].”_ Your eyes snapped to the woman in front of you, and the physical effort it took not to stare surprised you. She was gorgeous. Dark hair fell in waves across her face, small burgundy-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, framing large, dark eyes. Smiling, she turned to her husband, thrusting the second bag into his arms. “Why don’t you go put these away while I say hello to your new friend?”  
Misha leaned in with a smile, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before turning away.

“I’m so happy you’ve accepted the position, Misha is already raving about you!” A blush flushed over your cheeks, "Re-really? I mean...I haven’t even done anything yet.” “You’ve done more than you know.” Vicki reached out and squeezed your shoulder before turning to Maison, who still played on the floor. Lifting the small child into her lap, the woman kissed her cheek, smiling as Maison held out her “Kii.” Raising her dark eyes to yours, Vicki elaborated, “When you just moved to watch Maison without being asked, that went a long way with my husband. He was impressed. Not many people like children anymore, so it’s refreshing that you do.”

You weren’t going to tell the woman sitting before you that you actually had no interest in children, so you smiled back. She was a cute kid though, you mused to yourself.

 _“Ladies, would you like a glass of wine?”_ Misha walked back into the room, a dark tray in his hands held three glasses of red wine and a board filled with various meats, cheeses and crackers - olives rounding out the light snack. You’d never been one to enjoy wine, but you took the glass politely and thanked Misha. “So, [Y/F/N], tell me about you. I’m afraid my husband has had you all to himself today, and I want to know more about his newest employee.” Winking, Vicki raised her glass to her lips, taking a small sip.

Following her lead, you did the same. Expecting the bitter, harsh taste you’d come to associate with wine, you were surprised to find that the liquid filling your mouth was, instead, quite sweet and fruity. “Wow, this is really good.” You didn’t hide the surprise in your tone, and Vicki was quick to pick up on it. “Not one for wine?” Laughing, you answered truthfully, “No, I’ve just never had one that tasted this good.” _“I’m glad you like it.”_ Misha smiled. “Misha makes wine in his spare time," his wife mused. You snorted into your glass, trying to hide your reaction. “Of course he makes wine in his spare time.” Turning to the man in front of you, you giggled “What can’t you do Misha?” Blushing, you inwardly chastised yourself for acting like a teenager - did I really just giggle?” You wondered to yourself.

 _“Actually, Vicki teaches me new things all the time.”_   Waggling his eyebrows at his wife, he then looked to you, winking. “Why don’t you stay for dinner [Y/F/N]?” “We’d love to keep chatting.” You weren’t sure if it was the wine talking, but you could’ve sworn there was something in Vicki’s voice that wasn’t just idle politeness.

The next several hours passed, the bright rays of light that had been streaming through the window were now fading, as the sun began to sink behind the horizon. Vicki had gone to give West a bath, having come home from his friend’s house covered in mud, leaves stuck in his flaxen hair. You stood when Misha gathered Maison from the floor, mentioning he’d be back shortly before taking the squealing child to feed her and lay her down for the evening. _“Make yourself at home, [Y/F/N], I’ll be right back.”_

Walking to the large picture windows gracing the west side of the living room, a second glass of wine clutched in one hand, you sighed. The sunset was actually nice, it’d been awhile since you’d paid it much attention. The sky was painted with streaks of magenta, orange and violet. Mount Rainier, visible in the distance, was framed by the trees in Misha’s front yard and vaguely you wondered if he planned it that way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha, Vicky and Reader have dinner and a chat.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

“Here, let me.” Pushing away from the countertop you’d been leaning against, you approach Misha, abandoning your wine glass to help him roll out ravioli. He’d insisted on hand-making each one, and now, an hour into the process, you decided that if you wanted to eat _tonight,_ assistance would be required.

Chuckling under his breath, Misha’s head shook at his own private joke. “What’s so funny?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man covered in flour. _“You’re my assistant...so you can -assist- me in the kitchen.”_

Rolling your eyes, you sidled up to him, the click of your heels echoing over the wooden floor as you shook your head at the bad joke.

“It only gets worse, I’m afraid.” Vicki had walked into the kitchen as well, slipping into a chair at the bar, her chin resting in one hand as she swirled the remainder of the scarlet liquid in her wine glass with the other.

 _“Hey, [Y/F/N], I tried to get into my house the other day, but I couldn’t. Know why?”_ Bracing yourself, you looked to Misha’s wife for support, who merely smiled into her glass. “Why couldn’t you get into the house Misha?” _“Cause I had gnocci!”_ Groaning, you grabbed the rolling pin from the man next to you, still laughing. “If you rolled out these ravioli as fast as you made up jokes, we could be eating by now!” You grinned, and removing your blazer, hung it on the back of a barstool before grabbing a mound of the sticky pasta dough. “How about you just work on getting these filled?” _“Hmm, taking charge? I like it!”_ Misha ambled to the other side of the counter, setting to work filling half of the pasta with butternut squash and ricotta, and the other half with seared beef.

 

Once you started helping, it was forty-five minutes before you were sitting down at the dining room table, the dark-stained wood promoting the vibrant sauces and salads grouped before you.

Drizzling some of the brown butter and sage dressing over her butternut squash ravioli, Vicki launched into conversation about the book she was writing. “So, [Y/F/N], how do you feel about threesomes?” Nearly choking on the ravioli you’d taken a bite of, you looked up at the woman sitting across from you.

The pleasant look on her face indicated she thought of the topic with much the same regard as if she had asked you about your college major. You carefully chose your words, thinking about the question. “Well, to be honest, I haven’t given them much thought. I mean, the idea is intriguing, but I can’t seem to keep one relationship going for more than a couple of years, let alone trying to work on one involving multiple people.” “I’m really interested in the concept though, it’s something I’m studying in school.”

 _“_ _Oh? Where do you go to school?”_ Misha turned his head to look at you. “Western, actually. I’m majoring in Bio-Anthropology with a minor in Psychology and Sexuality.”

The seamless transition between topics distracted you long enough that you missed the knowing look shared between Misha and his wife.

After dinner, while helping clean up Misha’s ingenious homemade pasta project, the three of you began a game of ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Turns out, Misha and Vicki led an enormously more exciting life than you ever considered having. Sure, the game had started innocently enough, but, after awhile, phrases like “Never Have I Ever been to a nude beach” came up. Not surprisingly, Misha was the only one not drunk at the end of the night.

Sighing, you began gathering your things from around the house. Making your way to the front door, blazer over one arm and your heels dangling from the other, you were reaching for the doorknob when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you smiled at Misha’s concerned face, swaying only a little. _“Hey, [Y/F/N], what are you doing?”_ “Erm..GoiNG hoMe?!” _“Uh. No. No, you’re not.” “What kind of person would I be if I let you think that was a good idea when you've been drinking?”_ While trying to work through his meaning, the words floating hazily through your mind, Misha turned, easily steering you into the living room. “But..I..my cats….”  you whispered, half to yourself. Eyebrows disappearing behind his disheveled hair, Misha gently took the phone you held, flicking open the lock screen. He smiled at the wallpaper before scrolling through your contacts, hovering over the entry marked as ‘sister.’ _“Does 'sister' live nearby?”_ He asked, one hand still steady on your shoulder. “Mhm.” The sound barely audible, your eyes drooping. _“Alright, well, I’ll take care of it.”_ Pulling the blanket from the back of the couch, Misha draped it over your already sleeping body before turning from the room and dialing your sister’s phone number.

 

The following morning you woke to sunlight filtering through the living room windows. Sitting up with a start, you looked around, unsure at first where you were. As the events of the prior evening started revolving through your mind again, you groaned. “Great first impression you probably made..” you muttered to yourself. Looking around, you noted the quiet hush throughout the house, and, glancing at your phone saw it was just past 6:30 in the morning. Gathering your belongings, you made your way to the front door, stepping out into the chill of the early morning air. You glanced once more over your shoulder before shutting the door with a soft click.

Turning, you ran directly into Misha, an involuntary strangled sound escaping from your throat on impact. “Oh! Uh, hey Misha..uhhh..”

Your new boss stood before you, chest heaving, breath fogging in the air - his hair damp from the exertion of his early morning run. Looking down at your hands, still resting against his chest, you quickly pulled back, an apologetic look in your eyes. “I, uhm, I was just leaving.” Stepping awkwardly around the man, a soft smile played about his lips as you walked down the front steps. From what you could remember, nothing tawdry had happened the night before, but you still felt color heating your cheeks - highly doubting that most job interviews lasted fourteen hours as yours had.

You were pulled from your musings as Misha’s voice rang through the air; _“Ms. [Y/L/N]?”_ Cringing, you turned, fully expecting a lecture. _“I expect to see you bright and early Monday morning.”_ A smile flickered as the tension seeped from your shoulders.

“Of course.. _Mr. Collins._ ”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and her sister have a fun night out to celebrate reader's new job!

**CHAPTER SIX**

Blinking rapidly, you shook your head. Hands gripped the steering wheel in front of you, the sun washing through the windshield. You realized you were sitting in your driveway; how had you gotten home? This happened sometimes, you’d get in your car and end up at your destination with no real recollection of _actually_ driving.

Stifling a yawn, you shove your key into the deadbolt securing your apartment and are immediately assaulted by the cats you’d left the day before. With how they complained, you’d have thought they hadn’t seen you in a year. “You guys are as bad as dogs, you know that?” Green eyes blinked up at you owlishly before they stalked off, tails twitching in annoyance.

Whispers invaded the edges of your dream, and, try as you might the figures became fuzzy before disappearing altogether. The effort of lifting your heavy lids prevented you from recognizing the person standing at the foot of your bed and you startled, sitting up too fast for the second time in as many days. Stomach lurching, you groaned as the contents swirled for a moment before settling again.

“Ugh, FINALLY!” Cringing as the light was flipped on, your voiced cracked; throat dry. “What time is it?” Handing you a glass of water, your sister bounded onto your bed and you had to hold the drink up in the air to keep the cool liquid from sloshing over the sides. “It’s five.” “Get up, we’re going out!” With her intentions made clear, the woman next to you let out an inhuman noise, marking her excitement, before rolling off the bed sideways, the cats trailing behind in hopes of dinner as she left the room.

Shuffling out several minutes later, you laughed under your breath as you noticed your sister perched on your couch, wiggling with too much excitement. “What?” “So uh, I got an interesting call at..oh...2:45 this morning.” Grimacing, you dismissed her, a hand covering your face as you sifted through the fridge; suddenly ravenous. “Oh yeah?” Feigning interest only got you so far. “Yeah, from your new boss.” “You really need to tell me everything, and don’t you DARE gloss over the good stuff.” Tilting her head back, she tossed a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth, which earned a slight smile from you, a sigh of defeat sounding as you nodded in acquiescence.

Folding your legs beneath you, you sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to settle for anything but a full account of what had happened the day before.

Recounting the events took less time than you expected, and after asking clarifying questions, a smile spread across her face. “When Misha called me this morning from your phone I thought it was you somehow playing a prank on me. I yelled at him and was calling bullshit the entire time until he sent me this.” Unlocking her own phone, she scrolled through her texts, finding the one she wanted. Turning the device around, you smiled and groaned as you saw the picture. You were curled up on Misha’s couch, his face framed next to yours on the screen. The man had just met you and he was already looking out for your well being as you vaguely remembered him gently, but firmly steering you away from his front door.

“SO, like I said earlier, we’re going out to celebrate you lucky bitch!”

You couldn’t even see your sister, her head was buried so far in the closet as she rummaged through your belongings. Her muffled voice drifted from the rows of clothing;“Wear this!” You scoffed as she pulled a mini skirt from the depths. You’d forgotten you had that to be honest. It’d been years since you’d worn anything even remotely resembling club wear. “I’m a little old for that, don’t ya think?” “HAH! Don’t be such an old lady - put it on!” Snatching it from her grasp, you narrowed your eyes at the jab before turning from her. Stepping into the garment, you grumbled again, complaining that it barely covered your ass. Turning, you grimaced when you saw yourself in the full length mirror hung on your wall. When you moved to tug at the hem, your sister slapped at your hands “leave it alone, you look great.” Pulling a distressed AC/DC tank top from a drawer, she threw it at you as she turned to find her own clothes. “You do know it’s November, right?” “Yeah, so? We’re gonna be drinking and dancing, you’re gonna get overheated, just like you always do.” You couldn’t deny her logic. Knowing she was right, but not wanting to admit it, you pulled the shirt over your head.

A frigid winter breeze whipped around your legs as you stepped from your car that evening. For a Saturday night, you had been pleasantly surprised to find parking downtown. Glaring over at your sister, you scoffed at her choice of skinny jeans and a halter top. “How come you got to wear pants?” She merely laughed at you, waving off your protests as she grabbed your hand, pulling open the door of _Toro de Fuego_ , your first stop for the evening. “These guys have the _best_ nachos, you have to try them!” An enormous black, wrought iron and glass bull statue stood in the middle of the room, a roaring fire flickering around it’s hooves. With a friendly greeting, a woman in a tight black dress led you to one of the many tables clustered around the massive beast. She handed out menus as you lowered yourself into one of the chairs, conscious of how very short your skirt was.

“We’ll have two orders of your awesome nachos, and I’d like a shot of whatever tequila you recommend.” Smiling, the waiter turned his head to you, silently asking for your drink order. “Uhm, iced te--” “Oh no, no you don’t. Make that two shots please.” Smiling, the man took your menus, nodding towards your sister before bustling away to fill the order. “Come on, you know what happens when I drink tequila,” you whined. You swore her eyes sparkled as she nodded her comprehension. Folding her hands on the table before her, she laughed. “I know _exactly_ what happens, which is precisely why I ordered it for you. You need to loosen up a bit, ya prude.”

Stuffing another chip into your mouth, your eyes closed in bliss as the combination of beef, cheese and olives assaulted your senses. After the first shot of tequila, your apprehension had started to let up, and now after your second, you were laughing, completely giddy. “I can’t believe my new boss is Misha _fucking_ Collins!” Squealing, you slapped at your sister, who chuckled under her breath. _“Fuckin’ lucky bitch.”_ “C’mon, let’s head over to The Kiwi.” Throwing a few twenties down on the table, you pushed out from your chair, teetering only slightly as you wrapped your arm through your sisters, smiling as the two of you left the restaurant.

 

 _The Kangaroo and Kiwi_ was a bar down the street. Housed in an old library building, the multi-story establishment, aside from the sprawling bar, had converted the entire second level into a game room. Making your way to the back end of the first floor, your sister pulled her hand out of yours, shouting that she was going to find a table while you got drinks.

She watched as you threaded your way through through the few groups of people who’d accumulated. To call the walnut-stained structure a table was certainly an understatement, but she laid claim to two of the barstools surrounding the tabletop anyhow. Barely wide enough to support a couple of drink glasses, your sister folded her jacket and draped it over the back of her chair before sitting. Smirking, she pulled out her phone, bringing up the camera as she noticed you leaning against the bar, waiting on your drinks.

‘ _Having a great time celebrating [Y/F/N]’s new position! #girlsnight, #kangaroonkiwi, #drinksallround.’_ Posting the update to social media, she put her phone down on the table just as you were returning, chilled cocktails held in each hand.

The raucous laughter intensified as the bar began to fill. At ten o’clock, most every table was now full, the melodic sounds of celtic rock floating over your head had you swaying in your chair. You loved this feeling, the slight buzz resulting from your third drink had plastered a perma-grin on your face. Chin resting in one hand, you stared out into space, seeing nothing but the memories of the previous night flitting through your mind. “ ‘Scuse me gehls, I couna ‘elp bet notice yer sittin’ here all alone. Ma naems’ Galen, will ye dance wi me?”

The man standing before you smiled, rich copper hair falling over his bright eyes. You grinned, about to decline when you felt a vice grip around your bare thigh. Leaning into your sister, you whispered into her hair “you’re staring, love.” Turning back to the gentleman standing before you, you smiled “I’m okay, but my sister would _love_ to.” A small, strangled sound escaped her as the man turned bright green eyes to her, a slow smile spreading across his features. Holding out a hand for your sister, you laughed to yourself as he led her away, a worried expression shot at you over her shoulder as they disappeared into the crowd.

\----------------------

Vicki had left early that morning for a guest lecture assignment at a University in California. Shortly after [Y/F/N] had left, Misha had driven her to the airport; dropping the kids off at their grandparents house for the night. While he was often away from home for work, rarely did he have a quiet night to himself with no responsibilities. Clicking the power button on the remote control in his hand, he tossed it on the coffee table in front of him. Yawning, he rubbed his hands over his face and stretched. Picking up his phone from the couch next to him, he opened his Instagram feed, mindlessly scrolling through the images posted by his friends and followers. It had taken him only a minute to find your dash and he smiled as he scrolled through your pictures, clicking the follow button. His breath hitched in his throat as the feed updated, the picture your sister had posted now prominently displayed in front of him. “ _Fuuuuccckk”_ he groaned under his breath. In the black and white image, you appeared to be laughing while ordering drinks. Bent over the top of a busy bar, people flocked on either side of you. Your long [Y/H/C] cascaded in soft waves down your back, brushing the top of the mini skirt you wore. The lighting in the bar was dim, and the filters blurred the people around you, highlighting long legs as they stretched from beneath the fringe of material barely covering your ass.

\-----------------------

Your sister returned from her dance, breathless, a sheen of sweat clinging to her forehead. The wide grin spread over her face evidence of the fun she'd had with Galen.

Seeing your phone vibrate on the table-top, you lifted the device into your hand, pulling your gaze from your sister to take a swallow of your drink as you looked down at the notification.

Swiping the screen to check the text message, confusion rolled through your eyes as you noticed it was from Misha. Flicking your gaze up to the time in the corner, you saw that it was approaching midnight.

 

_“Hey babe, miss you already, can’t wait to see you on Monday.”_

 

 _Babe?”_ Gods he was a tease. Noting the multi-media message, you assumed it was a picture of Misha, but you nearly choked on your drink when your screen lit up, the soft glow illuminating your shocked expression in the darkness of the room.

A shirtless Misha stretched the length of the frame, sharp hip bones framing the thick cock gripped in his hand. Unconsciously, your thighs snapped together as you clutched the phone to your chest, your heart thudding frantically. A strangled cry and the coughing that resulted caught your sister’s attention and her eyes narrowed “You uh, you okay hun?” Your eyes widened, mouth hanging open in shock as you lifted your gaze to your sister’s face. Unintelligible noises fell from your lips as she came around to your side of the table, looking down at the screen you held clutched in your hands. “Ho-Oh! Who sent tha--oh fuck! Uh. Wow. You, uh, you sure nothing happened last night?” Her eyes flicked back and forth between you and the image clutched in your shaky hands.

“Wha-what do I do?!” You were flailing a bit now, trying to calm your frantic pulse. Snatching the phone from your hands, your sister hit reply, typing out a message before hitting the send button. “There, taken care of!” Looking down at the sent messages, you paled upon seeing what she’d written:

 

_“Babe? Really?! You’re killing me right now. Tease.”_

 

\----------------------

Misha, concerned, glanced at the notification. “ _Why is [Y/F/N] texting me?”_ Flicking open the message, confusion chased over his features as he read the text. Scrolling back through his sent notes, he was about to ask for clarification when he saw it...

Fingers deftly moved over his keyboard, and he hit send before scrambling off the couch, running his hand through his hair.

\----------------------

You jumped as the phone buzzed in your hand, hesitant as you opened the message:

 

“Fuck.”

\----------------------

He’d meant to send that to Vicki. She was his assistant for fuck’s sake, what was she going to think now?

Grabbing the phone he'd abandoned, he clicked on Vicky’s contact image before highlighting the green call button. It was after midnight but he had to ask her what to do.

She answered on the fourth ring, sleep laced through her breathless voice. “Mish, babe, what's wrong?”

When he'd finished recounting the mistaken text he'd sent, she was quiet on the other end. For a space of heartbeats he wondered if she'd fallen back to sleep. _“Vicki?”_ The laughter that assaulted his phone could have been heard by anyone, had he not been alone. It took her several minutes, but finally she calmed enough to let him know he was on his own. “Ah, ha. You uh, good luck with that one love. Lemme know how that works out for ya.” With a soft click, Misha held the phone out in front of him. Incredulous.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader returns to Misha's house Monday morning for her first day of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Male Masturbation

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Sunday flew by, the only thing on your mind the awkward conversation you'd be having with your boss come Monday morning. All too soon, your 5am alarm was sounding, cutting through your dreamless sleep. After showering and putting on light make-up, you padded back into your room in search of what to wear. Misha had never outlined the expected dress code, so you debated several minutes between jeans and a skirt before a thought crossed your mind. While Saturday nights’ faux pas had been alarming, it somehow made you more comfortable knowing that Misha was, in fact, not perfect. Waking your sister really was playing with fire, especially since the sun wasn't even up yet - but you couldn't help yourself when the idea sprang to mind. Tip-toeing into the adjacent room, you briefly reconsidered your plan before moving towards her sleeping form. Although it took several minutes, after a few complaints and a demand for tea, she relented, especially once she understood why you were waking her. Shuffling into your room, she smirked, “cute hair.” Choosing not to comment, you held up jeans in one hand and a soft grey pencil skirt in the other. Shifting your weight to one hip, you nodded at your sister to take the picture. Once finished, she left the room, and, upon hearing the door click and the muffled _whump_ of her body hitting the bed, you retreated to await Misha’s response. Briefly, you wondered if you’d gone too far, but the thought was chased from your mind almost immediately; _you_ hadn’t been naked after all.

\---------------------------------

Misha inhaled the morning air as he slowed to catch his breath. Pacing, he watched as the sun began to peak over the bay. Early morning fishermen were seen steering their boats carefully out of the marina; the sound of seagulls a distant echo as they flew overhead. The music flowing through his ear buds paused momentarily, a rapid beep indicating a new notification sounded before the music began to play once more. Pulling the phone from the pocket of his running shorts, he noted the text message from [Y/F/N]. Swiping open the application, the frustration was evident in his groan as he looked to the sky before answering. This girl was incorrigible. True, he hadn’t written the required dress code in her contract, because there hadn’t been one. He’d need to change that so he could prevent things like this from happening in the future. And yet, there she stood, curving hips covered in soft, plum colored panties and a lace-wrapped matching bra concealing the curves of her breasts. Her [Y/H/C] hair flowed in loose waves over her shoulders, framing the delicately creamy skin of her body. An impish smirk taunted him. He should’ve known she’d retaliate somehow, and, strangely, he liked her all the more for it. Considering his response only briefly before answering her question, he dropped the phone back in his pocket as he headed for home.

\---------------------------------

_“Cute.” “And to answer your question; neither. What you’re wearing now will do just fine ; )”_

 

Interpreting his text to mean that he didn’t really care what you wore, you opted for the jeans. If you were going to be rolling around on the floor again today, it’d be nice to worry less about flashing everyone. Settling on a black flowing top with constellations printed over the soft fabric, you grabbed a pair of short, chunky heels to pair with the outfit.

When you arrived at Misha’s house that morning, he was sitting on the front steps, appearing as if he’d just gotten home. Following him through the front door, he motioned for you to accompany him to his office, where he handed you a stack of papers. Glancing over the to-do list, your first day looked to be fairly easy, and mostly entailed mundane tasks such as answering emails and researching flight prices for an upcoming trip. _“We’ve got a lot to discuss today, but first…”_ You looked up from reading when he paused, lifting his t-shirt over his head and dropping it at his feet. _“I need a shower. You probably don’t want to work with someone who’s dirty, right?”_   His voice lowered, eyes burning into yours as the words fell from his lips. Not trusting yourself to speak, you shook your head, but not before noting the challenge in his expression. While true that you could’ve shot off some witty comeback, you decided to try remaining professional, instead answering with a quiet “mhm” before turning back towards his desk and flipping through the paperwork.

\----------------------------------

Impressed, Misha smirked to himself before turning from the room. So, she hadn’t risen to the bait. He was going to have to step up his game. While he wasn’t inherently _trying_ to make [Y/F/N] uncomfortable, the teasing she had started this morning certainly couldn’t be ignored. He assumed her response was regarding the picture he had accidentally sent Saturday night, but that had been an honest mistake.

Regardless, his mind began to wander as he walked into his room. Grabbing the phone from his pocket, he stripped his running shorts off before advancing to his en suite bath. The stone floor was cool beneath his feet as he opened the glass door of his shower. Pulling on the handles of the faucet, he stepped back as torrents of steam rose from the cascading water. Deciding to play some music to take his mind off of the girl perched in his office chair, his previous thoughts assaulted him again.

_The gathered material skimmed over the curve of her ass, and if he looked closely enough, he had convinced himself he could see just a hint of the panties she was wearing. She’d had no idea the picture had been taken, but that didn’t stop him from imagining his hands on her hips, pushing her heaving chest down to fall flat against that polished bar.._

 

Groaning, his eyes re-focused and he docked his phone into the speakers centered on the counter. Swiping his finger over the screen, the backlight illuminated the text [Y/F/N] had sent that morning. It had been the last thing he’d used his phone for so far today. His cobalt eyes greedily consumed the image, and he glanced up from the device, towards the office where she sat right this second..likely wearing the simple lingerie she’d photographed herself in. A shuddering breath escaped his chest as his cock brushed against his taut belly, insistent in it’s need for attention.

Stepping into the shower, he wrapped his fingers around his base, gripping tightly for a moment before methodically beginning to stroke over his length; squeezing his eyes shut as images of you again swam through his mind.

_[Y/E/C] eyes glanced up at him from beneath a thick fringe of dark lashes, challenging him to act on the thoughts she knew racked his brain. Soft, curving lips twitched into a smirk and he wondered what they would feel like pressed against his skin. Would they be gentle and hesitant or would she feed at him, insistent and demanding?_

As his grip flexed and began to move faster over his body, he found it difficult to remain quiet. Sure, she was unlikely to hear his moans over the cascade of water streaming down the front of his body, but what if she did? What if she came to investigate?

Vivid bursts of color flooded his senses as he imagined you walking through that door…

_Her perfect, tight pussy would feel amazing wrapped around his cock. Much better than any semblance of relief he could provide on his own. He imagined himself buried deep inside of her, her nails raking over the muscles of his back as she came, whimpering as he worked her through the orgasm, that long hair of hers wrapped in his fist as he left heated bites along her jawline and pulse point._

Throwing his left hand out to support himself on the wall, his right continued sliding over his cock, pausing occasionally to prolong the build up of his impending orgasm before falling back into a steady rhythm. Throwing his head back, a loud groan escaped his throat as his hips snapped forward a final time, thick ribbons of cum decorating the stone wall in front of him as his chest heaved from the exertion. He briefly debated the merits of actually washing himself, but reached for his body wash anyhow. He was going to have to have a chat with Vicki, especially if that’s how he was reacting to a couple of pictures.

\------------------------------------

The sound of the door opening behind you made you turn in the chair, very nearly dropping the stack of emails you were sorting as your eyes raked over Misha’s still damp body. A thick, white towel was knotted securely around his hips, his dark hair stuck out at odd angles, blue eyes hooded as he grinned down at you. _“How’s the to-do list coming along?”_ “It’s..uh..I’m..getting through it.” There, that sounded reasonable, right? You knew, that he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and you were determined to not give in to the reaction he was hoping for, even though you definitely wanted to.

 _“So, even though the year is nearly over, I’ve still got to make appearances at a couple of conventions before we’re released for winter break. We leave for Hawaii in three days, so pack your bags [Y/F/N]. Let me just go put some clothes on and we can iron out the details.”_   With that, Misha turned from the room and ambled back down the hallway. You could hear the muffled sounds of that fluffy, white towel sliding over his body. The shit had accidentally left his bedroom door open (totally on purpose), a light, airy whistle floated down the hallway as he dressed himself. Returning a few minutes later, your breath caught in your throat at the still damp, thoroughly mussed hair that dripped down his tanned skin. Dark washed jeans were held up by a thick belt, and even with the help of the bit of leather, they still hung low on his hips. The inguinal ligaments supporting the deep V protruding from either side of his waistband provided a very real memory of what lie beneath that loose denim.

Involuntarily, you shuddered. Ducking his head as he played at being bashful, he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked back up at you. You laughed then, a short bark of mirth bubbling from your chest, and briefly, Misha faltered. “Wanna know what’s funny?” The man’s raised eyebrows his only response as he maintained eye contact. “You were just standing here, mostly naked - nothing but a towel securing your modesty, but I’m more flustered by you now, all warm and clean in jeans and bare feet.”

_“You know, that likely wasn’t the best thing to admit sweetheart.”_

The words echoed through Misha’s mind as he inwardly filed that information away for later contemplation, striding over to his desk and pulling out his own chair.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader packs for her trip to Hawaii.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Wednesday night, you found yourself pulling a large, dark purple suitcase from beneath your bed. Although your favorite color was green, you seemed to own a lot of purple things. You hadn't used the luggage in years, you'd never had the luxury of paid vacation at your previous job. While this was technically a work trip, you were still going to Hawaii for the first time in your life and you had a hard time concealing your excitement.

The apartment door opened suddenly and you glanced out from behind the door of your bedroom to see your sister turning the lock behind her, her cheeks flushed with cold as she shrugged out of her light blue parka. “I can't believe you're going to Hawaii without me!” Sniffing, she strode into her bedroom before returning with a black shopping bag. “I've told you a hundred times this week, it's a work trip, I'm probably going to be cooped up in a hotel only wishing I were laying on the beach being served pina coladas out of a fucking coconut. Not exactly how I pictured my first trip to Hawaii, ya know?” “What. Is. _THAT_?”

Your jaw gaped as you looked up at what your sister had pulled from her shopping bag. Technically the swimsuit was a one-piece, if you were being generous. As she handed it over, you shivered as the silky emerald material slid through your hands. “Try it on, I'm sure Misha will LOVE it!” “You DO know he’s married,right?!”

Shouting in exasperation as she closed the door behind her with a soft click, you tossed the garment on the foot of your bed as you slid the navy pajama bottoms from your hips. Tying what you guessed were the top straps around your neck, you worked to pull the material down over your breasts. The top was two separate pieces of material, and they crossed over each other, the long bottom straps weaving behind your back crossed again over your sternum several times before being short enough to tie into a bow halfway down your torso. Black mesh joined the top to the barely-there short bottoms. Stepping into them, you realized just how little was left to the imagination as the material curved over the swell of your ass. Laughing to yourself, you couldn't imagine actually getting into the ocean in this contraption and you mentioned the concept as your sister peeked her head through the door, eyes screwed tightly shut as she called out to see if you were decent.

A low whistle sounded from her lips before splitting into a wide grin. “You'll be turning heads for sure! And, it's not a swim suit. It's a bathing suit. If you try going in the ocean with that you're liable to come back not wearing anything at all!” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she doubled over in laughter at the thought. “ ‘Sides, ya need two suits anyhow. One for wearing while the other is being cleaned.” Your eyes narrowed incredulously as you tried, once again in vain to explain that this trip was not pleasure, but business. She wasn't having it; “Doesn't hurt to be optimistic!” Scoffing, you stalked over to your top dresser drawer, the sharp clink of the metal handles hitting the dark wood as the heavy drawer slid over the frame. Pulling a simple pair of cobalt blue bikini bottoms from inside, you rummaged for a moment through the tops before selecting one with metallic gold pineapples emblazoned across the fabric.

Tossing it into your luggage along with the emerald monstrosity, you also included one pair of jeans, a simple light linen bohemian skirt, one pair of dark washed cut off shorts, several shirts, panties and two bras before zipping the lid closed. You'd decided on wearing your flip flops to the airport, the last thing you wanted to do at four in the morning was fumble with sneakers or high heels. You weren't going to complain though, the flight had been free...you figured you could just sleep on the plane. While you'd never been comfortable enough to do so, especially after reading that airlines had narrowed their seats in recent years - you had surprised yourself in the past with where you'd been able to fall asleep when you were tired enough.

Misha had booked a red-eye flight with the intention of easing you into the strict travel schedule. Fans and the media often camped out at the airport with the fervent hope of snagging a picture with him, regardless of the time, which was something he wanted to avoid if at all possible. Since he had mentioned picking you up at one a.m. you decided to forego sleeping that night, not that you could've if you'd tried. The excitement and worry had you pacing the house well past midnight, your sister laughing to herself at your frenzied actions. She was finally able to get you to sit down, the cats claiming your lap almost immediately.

“Hey, maybe you'll get to see Misha half naked on the beach!” She quipped. “I'm pretty sure I've seen everything I'll be seeing of my boss, thanks!” The two of you laughed together for a few minutes. Suddenly your sister's cat whipped her head up from the lap she had reclined on, peridot colored irises widening as she scrambled from her warm perch.

Wincing as claws dug into her thighs, a string of expletives gritted through her teeth as your sister recovered from the assault. “You're fine! Feckin’ asshat!” The toffee colored face glanced briefly at her complaints before her eyes trained themselves back on the front door, safe from whatever horror was approaching as she backed herself under the couch. “I assume your chariot awaits with how quickly brown cat launched herself from my lap.” The half-lidded sarcasm was followed by a soft knock at the front door, your grey cat quickly fleeing to join her sister in their safe haven of couch cushions. Groaning at your sudden exhaustion, you lift yourself from the couch to open the front door. A soft smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as a clearly sleepy Misha greeted you from the other side.

 _“Hey [Y/F/N], ready to go?”_ The man spoke in hushed tones, clearly convinced that you were the only one awake at this hour. Throwing the door open as she strode up behind you, your sister thrust her hand out towards Misha. “Hey! Finally getting to meet the new boss, it's good to _Misha_!” You groaned at the pun as Misha turned worried eyes to you before shaking her hand. A bewildered look settled over his features as she pulled him into a quick hug. You noted his face flushing several shades of red as a lascivious grin spread across her face - whispering against his ear, “Nice cock, dude.” Grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand you quickly saved Misha from your sister, wrapping her in a tight hug before promising a daily report as your boss ushered you from the house.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Misha arrive at the airport for their trip to Hawaii.

**CHAPTER NINE**

The chilly November air whipped across your shoulders as you descended the three flights of stairs. At the bottom, an obsidian SUV rumbled quietly in the early morning darkness. Your choice to forego a jacket was an immediate regret as you hurried towards the awaiting vehicle. When you decided to leave without so much as a hoodie, you'd reasoned that the tropical hawaiian weather didn't warrant the need to consume extra space in your luggage with something you were unlikely to wear. Of course you'd been too busy caught up in your daydreams about actually _being_ in Hawaii to remember that November in the Pacific Northwest was quite cold. Sliding onto the heated seats in the back, you were surprised when Misha chose to join you rather than sitting up front with his driver. Silent chills racked your body, and as the warmth slowly seeped into your skin, you tried to fight your heavy eyelids as you stifled a yawn.

 _"Hey, come here [Y/F/N].”_ The man next to you extended his arms in your direction, and you were unsure, but you had to be dreaming. “Misha?” The question in your voice made him smile in understanding. Sliding one arm across your shoulders, Misha pulled you into his side, his body heat mingling with your own. _“You're clearly exhausted and fighting sleep like a two-year old isn't going to help. We've got an hour ride ahead of us. I'll wake you when we get there.”_

You quite nearly protested, not sure where the line between employee and friend rested, but you were tired and he was offering. Resting your head against his shoulder, you couldn't help but feel awkward with the situation. After a few uncomfortable minutes, you rose your head to look a question at Misha. His concerned confusion made you realize he obviously couldn't read your mind as you had originally hoped. _“What's the matter [Y/F/N]?”_ “Misha, is cuddling with my boss something I should expect as a perk to this job?” The clear concern in your voice made him sit forward, one hand reaching out to grab your shoulder. _“We can talk about it when we get to the airport, but I assure you, you're not doing anything immoral and if you're uncomfortable, you need only say so.”_

While there was still some worry flitting through your mind, the warmth of your surroundings comforted you. You'd definitely be sorting things out as soon as you settled into your seats aboard the plane, but for now you'd take the comfort he offered. Leaning back into his side, you draped one arm across his waist as you turned to lower your head to his chest. The slow, methodical thudding of his heart lulled you into complacency, your shoulders relaxing as his right hand absently glided over your back; streetlights zipping passed the windows as shadows encroached on your vision.

\--------------

[Y/F/N] having been so concerned with what was and wasn't appropriate right away startled Misha. He wasn't complaining, but it was nice that she was trying to remain professional even with her evident attraction to him. He'd have to make sure to explain that her position wasn't solely as employee but also as a friend and traveling companion. He'd give her the opportunity to ask whatever clarifying questions she needed to. It'd been years since he'd felt the desire for a third in his relationship with Vicki. He loved his wife with every fiber of his being, and had been surprised when she'd initially suggested that he offer his assistants the option.

The sleeping woman curled around his waist was still tense, though she'd relaxed a bit since he'd started rubbing her back. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't attracted to her as well, the days leading up to this trip had proven that much. Looking up, he noticed Clif glancing in the rearview mirror at him, one brow crooked in a question. Misha nodded slightly, and a small smile replaced Clif’s confused look. They'd known each other for nearly a decade and often had conversations where no words were necessary. Eyes flicking to the upcoming bridge, a green metal sign hung along the underpass indicating their approach to Sea-Tac. Misha's hand moved to the woman's shoulder, gently shaking her awake. It took a few minutes, but soon she sat up from her position, eyes widening at her perceived mistake as they flicked between Misha's face and his chest where she'd fallen asleep. _“Hey, we're here, you ready?”_

\--------------

As often happens after you napped, your initial grogginess turned to hyper-awareness as you scooted across the bench seat, your long arms stretching out to the side as you groaned quietly to yourself. Peering out the tinted window, excitement began to course through you once again as airplanes loomed on the tarmac just ahead. You'd resolved to ask no more questions until you were on the flight, six hours sitting next to Misha on a cramped plane would give you ample time to get your questions answered, and holy Hell did you have questions.

As the car sailed to a smooth stop in front of your gate, you noticed the driver immediately get out and walk around to your door, pulling open the heavy black handle, a polite smile on his face. Surprised, you took his offered hand as you scooched across the leather seat. Wasn't he supposed to be opening Misha's door? Looking over your shoulder, you noted Misha was already at the back, unloading the few pieces of luggage contained within. Smiling at the man before you as Misha joined you at your door, you looked up at his pleasant smile and beamed “Hey, I'm [Y/F/N], what's your name?” _“Look at my lack of manners. [Y/F/N] this is Clif. He drives for me when he's not guarding the bodies of Jared and Jensen.”_ “Well Clif, it's awesome to meet you, thank you so much for the ride!”

Turning to Misha, you reached for the handle of your luggage, taking his as well. His look of surprise amused you. “Kinda my job right?!” Laughing, you waved to Clif as you began pulling the two large cases towards the terminal gates. Misha turned to quickly hug Clif and thank him for the ride before jogging to catch up with you. Once inside, you walked up to the Hawaiian Airlines desk, greeting the agent with a happy smile. Handing over your driver's license, you rocked back and forth on your heels in happy contentment. Sure, it was early, you couldn't remember when you'd last been awake at two in the morning, but the airport was relatively quiet and you were on your way to Hawaii - there wasn't much room for complaint.

Upon getting your tickets, and making your way through the TSA checkpoints, you strolled through the large building, boarding the underground tram that would take you to your gate. Misha had been silently walking at your side, one arm draped casually on your shoulder. You were starting to suspect that Misha was just a touchy kind of person. While you enjoyed the contact, you told yourself not to look too much into it. Stepping off the train at the end of the line, you started climbing the three flights of stairs leading back to the first floor. Having only your messenger bag on you made the climb easier, but you were still surprised at the amount of cardio involved, your heart racing with the effort several minutes later as you reached the top. _“This way [Y/F/N].”_ Misha steered you to the appropriate waiting area, claiming two of the small plastic benches and folding himself into the one facing the window.

Although the space was quiet, a few people waited for the same flight nearby. Too excited to sit, you walked up to the large plate glass windows, staring out at the immense pink and white Boeing jet as it taxied into place at your gate. The tangerine colored plumeria lei decorating the tail ignited your excitement once again. In a few short hours you'd be on Hawai’i! Looking down at your ticket, your nervous excitement stilled as you took note of your seat number: 1A

Eyes widening, you strode back over to Misha, who was absent-mindedly scrolling through his Twitter feed. _“I think there's a mistake with my ticket Mish, this says I'm in First Class?”_ He looked up and smiled as the PA system crackled to life: “Aloha! Welcome to Hawaiian Airlines flight 22, non-stop to Oahu! At this time we're inviting our Platinum, Gold and First Premier passengers to board. If you need special assistance, one of our gate agents would be happy to help. Once again, that's Platinum, Gold and First Premier members, now boarding!”

With a sharp click, the gate attendant set the phone back in its cradle, walking over to open the large steel door leading to the plane. Misha lifted himself from the small, cold plastic bench and walked towards the gate agent, guiding your bewildered self along with him. Your head buzzed with the realization that you wouldn't be riding coach as you had always done in the past. First Class had always been too rich for your blood, and you weren't sure what to expect from the experience. _“[Y/F/N]? [Y/F/N]?”_ “Hmm?” _“She needs to scan your ticket.”_ “Oh! Of course! I'm so sorry!”

The agent smiled as she ran the scanner over your ticket before handing it back to you and wishing you a nice trip. As you and Misha walked down the corridor leading to the aircraft, you wondered to yourself what First Class would be like.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader enjoys First Class in the company of Misha.

**CHAPTER TEN**

It had been several years since you'd flown, but the seats that awaited you in First Class were brand new. Lowering yourself into the plush reclining chair, you were delighted to find a menu resting on the table between you and Misha, bottles of water already in place. After placing both your messenger bag and Misha's beneath your seat, you wriggled back against it, smiling up at the stewardess who approached you. Glancing at Misha, her eyes narrowed briefly in recognition before turning back to you. “Aloha! Would you like a drink? Our signature cocktail is a Mai Thai this morning. We also have fresh squeezed juices as well as soft drinks and hot tea or coffee?” “Uhm, orange juice please?” Smiling at the young woman as she turned her nervous gaze to Misha, he answered her silent question as well.  _“I'll have the Mai Thai, thank you!”_ The woman nodded before bustling away while you dug through your bag in search of your wallet. _“What are you doing [Y/F/N]?”_   “Looking for my wallet, how much do you think orange juice is?” With your head buried in your bag, you didn't notice Misha laugh to himself. Placing a large hand on yours, you stilled, raising your head to glance up at the man sitting next to you. _“[Y/F/N], it's free. Everything is. Wait till you taste the food, I've heard Hawaiian has pretty good meals.”_ “Well Hell, I won't say no to free juice and breakfast!” Beaming, you settled back in your chair, content with your flight, even though you hadn't even left the gate yet.

Your eyes widened, as Misha reached over and pushed the silver button that lie flush against the recliner, lowering the back of your seat into an almost fully flat bed. He leaned over you then, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with renewed exuberance as he stared down at you, a soft smile spreading across his features. He'd been flying at least twice a week for the last ten years and had grown used to the feeling. It was endearing to see someone experience it for the first time. Turning, he thanked the stewardess for the drinks before holding yours out to you. The orange juice was chilled in a clear glass, a small cocktail of orange slices with pineapple lie skewered across the top of the drink. Raising your glass to meet Misha's outstretched one, the quiet clink of your respective beverages signaled the beginning of your first trip with Misha in charge. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you snapped a picture of your fancy orange juice and sent it to your sister with the hashtag #pinkiesupbitches. “I could get used to this! Is this how you always fly?” _“Oh but wait! There's more!”_ You laughed as his deep melodic voice mimicked the late Billy Mays. Misha’s shoulder brushed yours as he once again leaned over your seat, his broad chest resting against your shoulder as he tapped another button on the opposite arm of your chair. Two additional successive taps revealed a hidden bar that rose up from the armrest, folding across your lap. “Is this my crash bar?!” The sarcasm dripped heavily from your voice as you looked up at him again. Your breath caught in your throat with how close he was to you, and you steeled yourself to keep from reaching up to him. He was teasing you, it was plain in his expression. Smiling to yourself, you decided to bide your time and exact your next move when he least expected it.

“Here you go ma’am.” Turning towards the voice, the same stewardess from earlier had returned, in her hand was an Apple iPad Pro. Thanking her again, Misha grabbed it for you and set it into the bar across your lap, where it supported itself, able to turn to different viewing angles and heights. A blush crept over your cheeks as you realized how incompetent you were. Of course the bar held a tablet. Why wouldn't it? Turning to adjust the travel pillow behind your head, you smiled again. Where you'd always been one in a row of too many cramped seats in coach, behind you, the wall was covered in a starry mural, heavy cream curtains hung on either side, dimming the cabin. The soft fleece blanket and reclining chair made you all but forget that you were on a plane until the captain's voice floated through the air. “Good morning folks! This is your captain speaking. On behalf of Hawaiian Airlines we'd like to extend our greatest appreciation that you chose to fly with us today.” The jet rumbled backwards as it was pushed out of the gate. “Our expected flight time is five hours and forty-five minutes.” “Now, about an hour or so into our flight, we'll be experiencing something most Seattleites aren't accustomed to, if you look out your windows, you'll be greeted with a warm golden light. We fondly refer to this as sunlight. No need to be alarmed!” A deep, rumbling laughter sounded over the intercom and the familiarity of dry jokes and the hum of the engines reminded you of the last time you'd traveled.

Ten minutes later, the roar of the engines escalated as the wheels lifted off the tarmac. Grinning, you leaned forward. In your excitement, you turned to share it with Misha, but found the man with his eyes closed, a white knuckled grip on the center armrest, tension radiated through his body with his nerves. The headphones resting over his ears prevented him from hearing your question of concern as you checked to see if he was okay. Reaching over, you placed a steady hand on his wrist, and he jerked involuntarily before settling under your touch. A small smile chasing over his features disappeared as the aircraft lurched into a brief pocket of turbulence before evening out. Screwing his eyes shut, Misha gripped your arm again until you reached cruising altitude. Removing the headphones, he lowered his seat into its fully reclined position as he settled in for the trip. _“Sorry about that. Its just take-off that unnerves me for some reason. Thanks for the support.”_  His deep blue eyes searched your features as relief flooded through him. Pulling his blanket up to cover himself, he closed his eyes. Laying back next to him in your own recliner, you mused “Tut tut, aren't I the floozy! Sleeping with my boss less than a week after being hired!” You laughed then, a hand braced against your chest with a look of mock horror on your face.

Misha smirked, lifting one heavy eyelid to look sideways at your grinning countenance. Turning on his side to face you, he reached up, running one hand through his espresso soaked hair, trying with no luck to rearrange the strands into a more presentable fashion. _“So, what questions do you have?”_ “Huh. I mean, I've never cuddled with my bosses before. But then again, I've also never seen any of them naked.” Blushing, you stared into your lap, ringing your hands as you mentioned the text. _“What can I say, figured I'd lay my cards on the table right away!”_ You both laughed then, earning you concerned looks from the occupied chairs surrounding you. _"In all seriousness though, I really am sorry for that. It was a complete accident. I should have double checked before sending the message."_

You were quiet a few moments as the flight attendants buzzed around you, checking in occasionally to offer another free drink or a plate of macadamia nuts.

Popping a few into your mouth, you savored the delicately buttery texture. It'd been awhile since you'd had them and you savored the small snack. Breakfast consisted of a small cheese omelette with island grown sausages, fresh fruit and a warm poppy seed scone. “Fun fact, if you eat a ton of poppy seeds you'd be totally stoned. Did you know that?!” _“That's such an old wives tale!” “Let me guess, you read that on the internet?”_  Misha smiled and then laughed again, the rich reverberations making you smile as well. You thoroughly enjoyed Misha's laughter and his company, and truth be told, you hadn't minded a bit when you'd received the accidental text that Saturday night.  _“Well, if there are no more questions at the moment, I'm going to try and sleep. Might I suggest you do the same? We've a busy weekend ahead of us Ms. [Y/L/N].”_ With that, Misha flipped over to his other side, intent on falling asleep, but instead his mind swam with images of you. You knew you'd likely regret the decision later, but you were far too excited to spend your first time at the front of the plane sleeping. Turning to the iPad resting across your thighs, you put the cushioned headphones over your ears and watched ‘The Help’ while sipping your new Mai Thai. As the credits rolled two hours later, you rubbed your eyes, the quiet lull of the engines along with the darkened cabin and Misha's low, even breathing next to you had you closing your eyes in comfort.

There was another two and a half hours of flight time before landing in Hawaii. Maybe Misha had a point? Upon landing on Oahu you'd be three hours behind home, meaning there would be three more hours of work - whatever that entailed, before you’d sleep for the night. Settling down in your reclined seat, you glanced over at the man sleeping next to you, hardly able to believe this was your new life. You began to wonder what had happened with his previous assistants, why would anyone would want to leave this job? 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Misha land in Hawaii!

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

 

“Good afternoon folks, we’re now making our initial descent into Honolulu. You can expect to be on the ground in about fifteen minutes. If everyone would kindly raise their seats and tray tables into an upright position, that'd be super. Thank you!”

Stirring as the voice floated through the cabin, you fumbled for the button that would raise your seat back into its starting position while stifling a yawn. Blinking a few times, you turned, noticing Misha was still asleep. Quietly you watched him for a few moments; the steady rise and fall of his chest relaxing as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stretched. 

Reaching across his sleeping body, you began searching for the button to raise his seat as well, wondering if you could sit him up without waking him.

The unfamiliar weight pressing into his body woke Misha, his cerulean eyes widening at the sight of [Y/F/N]’s breasts pressed against his broad chest. _ “Well hello there.” _ He chuckled, effectively startling the woman looming over him.

“Fuck, sorry Mish, I was trying to find the recliner button without waking you. We're almost there and they want us to sit up now.” _“Well if I had to wake up, I really can't complain about how I was woken.”_ One bright eye winked at you as he struggled into an upright position while you sat back in your own seat, hoping he hadn't seen the blush or noticed the way your heart raced.

“Do you want me to hold your hand for when we land?”  You were pleasantly surprised at how matter-of-fact you sounded as you held your left hand out towards the man beside you. 

“I'm usually okay for the landing, but I won't say no to some extra contact.”  Another wink.  “Fuck.”  You groaned to yourself as his warm fingers interlaced with your own. Closing your eyes briefly in an attempt to not over-think the action, you cleared your throat before speaking again. “Aahem..so what's our first order of business boss man?” A slow smile spread over Misha's face and you noticed, perhaps for the first time, that when he smiled, his entire face changed. The corners of his eyes would crinkle, his nose would scrunch up, and those perfect white teeth would show. Your heart rate increased again and somehow Misha noticed, squeezing your hand in his own.

_ “Well, we've got about a thirty minute ride to the hotel from the airport. I've arranged a driver to pick us up as Clif won't be in until Friday with the boys.” “When we get to the hotel, we'll get checked into our rooms and from there feel free to have a look around and just hang out. I'll have to go check in with the convention organizers, but aside from that, we'll just chill and maybe hit the beach?” Rob and the band are getting in tomorrow and then Kim, Briana, Oscric, Ruth, Mark and the boys will be in on Friday.” _

An hour later, you had deboarded and were carrying the bags out to the parking lot to meet your driver. The luggage cart wobbled precariously as you guided it through the busy airport. Though it was early afternoon, you managed to get outside without incident. “Aloha! Welcome to Hawaii!” A small man in a dark suit hurried to your side as soon as he noticed you. Laughing happily, he took the handle of the trolley from you and guided it to the waiting SUV where he loaded the bags quickly. Turning to grab Misha, your chest tightened when you didn't see him immediately. Raising up on your tip-toes, you scanned the crowds around you. Everyone was hurrying to their respective shuttles and your boss was nowhere in sight.

Just as you were pulling the phone from your pocket to send him a text, you saw him. About twenty feet away, a family was taking a picture and Misha crouched down on the ground with their kids, smiling and laughing as the shutter clicked a few times. Stepping forward, he shook hands with the man taking the picture before raising his head to find you. The shining white vehicle was cool and dark inside as you leaned over the door frame to set your smaller bags next to the seat.

_ “Hey, [Y/F/N], wanna get lei’d?” _ You tensed, but slowly turned toward Misha’s voice. You startled with how close he was standing next to you. In his hand was a beautiful, double plumeria and tuberose lei, the magenta and soft cream flowers gave off a heady, sweet scent as Misha placed it over your neck to rest around your shoulders. You flushed briefly before shoving him playfully as he waggled his thick eyebrows at you.  _ “Welcome to Hawaii Ms. [Y/L/N].” _

You hadn't expected Hawaii to look so….city. All the pictures you'd seen on the internet had showed rolling beaches and beautiful, tropical plants everywhere.  _ “Honolulu is a very busy city but the convention hotel is right on the beach, so it'll seem more familiar once we get there.” _ Misha assured you.

Soon, the driver, whose name was Tony, pulled into the large circular driveway of the hotel. As soon as the door opened, your jaw dropped. Beautiful stone walkways led from the car to the outdoor reception desks, fragrant plants and trees clustered tightly throughout the immense space. A loud cawing drew your attention to a pair of wild macaws who sat grooming themselves on a nearby tree branch, their teal and scarlett feathers striking against the green canopy.

Chuckling, Misha tipped the bellhop before gently taking hold of your upper arm to guide you towards check-in. 

The sharp, metallic sound of a keyboard tore your gaze back to the present as the woman behind the desk chatted animatedly with Misha. “Beautiful, isn't it?” The woman's soft brown eyes lit up at the wonder on your face. Nodding, you reached for the packet she handed across the desk to you. “Alright, you're all set, here are your room keys, you'll be staying in Rainbow Tower, directly overlooking the ocean. Rooms 2612 and 2614. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to give us a call, enjoy your stay!”

Throwing an arm around your shoulder, Misha turned the two of you towards your rooms.  _ “Usually I just share a room with my assistant, but since we met less than a week ago, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that.” _ The easy laugh that followed made you smile. The thought of sharing a room with Misha Collins had you giggling to yourself, thankfully quiet enough that if Misha did hear you, he chose not to comment.

The spacious glass elevator provided a beautiful ride to the top of the looming rainbow-washed tower. 

Stepping into the cool hallway once you reached the top floor, you noticed there weren't as many rooms as you had initially thought there would be.  _ “Usually one or two entire floors are reserved for the cast, helps mitigate the more...exuberant fans from following us to our rooms, hah.” _ You hadn't even considered the idea that people would do such a thing. Sure, you’d daydreamed about ‘accidentally’ running into someone from the cast at a hotel or in an elevator, but you’d never seriously considered following them or sneaking onto their floor. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Misha and the rest of the cast were well known and had a large fan base. Granted, you hadn't met the others yet, but you assumed they were all regular, laid-back people like Misha.

Sliding the thin plastic card from the envelope clutched in your hands, you pressed it into the small slot on the door once you stepped up to your room. A soft click accompanied by three rapidly blinking green lights allowed you to turn the handle and push the door open. 

A large, California king sized bed graced one wall, the white linens covering them soft and airy. A dark lavender sectional rested against the adjacent surface. The third and largest wall was completely made of large, floor to ceiling plates of glass and had two sliding doors set into each side leading out onto your balcony.

Stepping out onto one of the covered sections, you were able to see the ocean, stretching for miles out in front of you before it was lost to the horizon.

Back inside you were excited to see the deep soaking bathtub and separate glass shower stall, where not one, but two rectangular shower heads were set into the ceiling. Was it bad that you were excited to test out both the expansive shower and the bathtub?

Wandering back into the main room, you noted a locked door. Assuming it was Misha's adjoining room, you flipped the deadbolt and pulled it open. Calling out to him as you walked over the threshold, you quickly noted his room had a similar layout.

Walking out of the bathroom, he flopped backwards on the bed, a sigh of contentment bursting from his chest as he closed his eyes briefly. _ “I have to go check in with Creation here in a few minutes. If you want, when I come back we can have some lunch and talk properly?” _ His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through his windows, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a mischievous grin.  “That would be great, I think I'm going to go test out that amazing rainwater shower while you're gone.”

Misha stilled as images of you in the shower blossomed through his mind. 

_ The steam and cascading water ran over the soft curve of her hips, her sk--  _

“Misha? Is that okay? Did you need me to do anything first?” Staring down at the man spread out on the white bedding, you smirked as he groaned - and you got the distinct impression it wasn’t from fatigue. Gingerly, he lifted himself from the bed, trying his best to adjust the uncomfortable constriction of his pants without [Y/F/N] noticing.

_ “Sounds..uh..nice. Have a good time.” _ A quick wink and Misha pulled open the door before disappearing down the hall.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Misha settle into their hotel in Hawaii and Reader meets a new friend :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slight jealously if you tilt your head and squint a bit

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

With a soft click, the door shut behind Misha, and, as he walked towards the elevator the quiet swish of his shoes over the carpet accompanied him. Pulling his phone from the pocket of the loose denim jeans he wore, he scrolled through his contacts, skimming over Vicki’s phone number as he rose the device to his ear. Knowing the elevator would likely interrupt his conversation, he elected to take the stairs. The resounding echo of the heavy iron door sounded behind him just as she answered the phone. “Hey babe, just wanted to check-in. We’re all settled into our rooms and I’m on my way to check in with Creation.” “How are the kiddos?” Smiling at the sound of his wife’s voice, Misha began the long descent towards the bottom floor.

“So, I actually wanted to talk to you ab–” “Yeah..ha. You know me so well love.”

Vicki had been expecting the conversation since the first night she’d met [Y/F/N]. Frankly she was surprised it hadn’t come up sooner. “Just remember the rules Mish. And if at any point it gets more serious for you than a casual relationship, we can talk through that too. I’m interested in [Y/F/N] as well ya know?” “Anyways, I’ve gotta get going - the kids need lunch and West has decided he’s not interested in wearing clothes all of a sudden. Like father, like son…” Her soft laughter echoed through the speaker as she said good-bye to her husband.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Misha mused over the rules of their agreement. There were three. 1. Be safe. 2. No un-discussed commitment and 3. Family comes first. There had only been one time in the last ten years that he had felt strongly enough towards a girlfriend to bring up the second conversation. Occasionally, his heart still twinged when he thought of her - but ending the relationship had been for the best when she had tried to take Vicki’s place.

Shaking his head to clear the fog that threatened to dampen his mood, he slid dark glasses over his eyes as he stepped from the stairwell out into the sun.

Back upstairs, you stood beneath the waterfall shower heads with your eyes closed, the steam rolling through the room releasing the tension from your aching muscles. Although the flight had only been six hours, combined with the early wake up call and lack of proper sleep, you were starting to feel the exhaustion.

Twenty minutes later, as you stood blow-drying the last of your hair, you heard Misha knocking on your adjoining door. “One sec!” you shouted, turning off the blow dryer so you could run to find a pair of shorts before opening the door.

“Hey [Y/F/N], ready for lunch? The low rumbling in your stomach chose that moment to speak up and answer for you. “I’ll take that as confirmation!” “Why don’t we order in and eat out on the balcony?” “Sounds good to me,” you mentioned as you padded over to the large windows, drawing the thick curtains to one side before stepping through them. The warmth immediately seeped through your skin, as the sun shone down on the table from above you. “So, [Y/F/N] have you had time to think about the conversation we started earlier?” Your cheeks flushed as you nodded. Normally you weren’t this shy, but there was something about Misha that made you unsure of yourself. “Actually, yes.” Sitting back in one of the wooden chairs clustered around the table, you committed to the idea of asking all the questions you had, regardless of how embarrassing or private they might seem. “First though, I have one request. Just..just tell me if I ask or talk about something that crosses some line. Okay?” “I’m an open book [Y/F/N]. Clear and concise communication is important in relationships like ours after all.”

“And just what does this ‘relationship’ of ours entail Mr. Collins?” Raising one eyebrow in a self-satisfied smirk, the curling of your lip spoke volumes, while out loud, you’d said only a simple sentence. As much as you thought your challenging expression was good - Misha’s own left eyebrow raised a few inches, the infamous dom!brow instantly made you shudder as his normally bright eyes began to darken. “We’ve already covered this [Y/F/N], do you really want to test me? Sitting forward, the low chuckle that rumbled up from his chest sent bolts of lightning through your body and breathing became difficult as you slipped once again into your own imagination.

“No you don’t, missy.” Reaching forward, Misha wrapped his fingers around your own, pulling you from the daydream before it even began. A loud rapping on the door alerted the two of you to the room service that waited just outside. “Why don’t you go get our lunch Ms. Wilde?” Nodding silently, you rose from the chair across from your boss, disappearing behind the curtain as you moved towards the door.

Stopping to grab your wallet from the bag wrapped up on the couch, you pulled the door open while staring down into its contents. How much were you supposed to tip room service? “Oh..m’sorry I uh..mus’ve the wrong room.” Your hands stilled as the familiar voice curled around in your mind. Raising wide eyes to the man standing in the doorway, the wallet dropped from your hands as you tried your best to not stare. “Fuucck m-me..” the whisper fell from your lips before you could stop it. Obviously he heard, as one corner of his face pulled up into a slight smile. Blinking, you stooped to retrieve your fallen wallet, but he grabbed it first. As his hands tucked the contents back into the leather, he smirked “nice wallet.”

“Reedus! How you been buddy?” Thrusting an arm out from behind you, Misha shook the man’s hand as his other arm curled around your waist. Eyes widening, you looked down at the fingers digging into your skin and back up at Misha, who was still talking with Norman and hadn’t looked at you. “Norman, this is my new assistant [Y/F/N], [Y/F/N] this i-” “Is..Norman Fucking Reedus…” While you worked to get your expression under control, the man standing outside the door reached forward to shake your hand. “Nice to meet you [Y/F/N].” Turning his attention back to Misha he explained that he’d been looking for Jeff, but must’ve gone to the wrong building. “Nah man, it was good to see you - we should catch up sometime this weekend!”

As the two men said their goodbyes, you backed out of Misha’s embrace and retreated back onto the balcony - the sun warming your skin again as you waited for Misha to return.

Lunch was quiet, thoughts of Norman and of Misha’s unexpected grip on your waist invaded your mind while you talked with your boss. Of course they were friends, did you really expect anything else? With JDM having been on both Supernatural and The Walking Dead, it had made sense that the circles of friends would’ve mixed at some point right? “So boss, is there anyone you don’t know?” You chided the man across from you as you finished the grilled salmon on your plate. “You’d be surprised [Y/F/N], series actors usually run in the same circles, it’s a smaller community than you might think.”

Satisfied with your lunch, you were surprised at how quickly fatigue set in again. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the exhaustion. Showering…eating..nothing had worked. Stifling another yawn, you excused yourself from the table. “Hey Mish, if it’s cool, I’m gonna take a nap. Try to get caught up on sleep so I can actually function this weekend?” “I could actually use a nap myself.” Rising from his chair, he reached out for your hand and pulled you into the darkened space of his room. Lowering himself to the large bed, he pulled you forward until you fell with a soft grunt beside him. Curling an arm around your waist, he drew you tightly in against his chest, your heart pounding at the contact. You still didn’t know what type of relationship this was supposed to be with Misha, but right now you just didn’t care, eyes drifting shut with the warmth of the man next to you as you cuddled into his body.

Several hours later, you groaned as you rolled over, eyes blinking open as you woke in the darkness. The bed next to you was empty and you sat up, looking around at the rumpled blankets and your wrinkled clothes. Yawning, you reached over to the small wooden table next to the bed, flicking the screen on your phone and noting it was almost nine o’clock. So..midnight back home. Of course you’d be wide awake at midnight right? Ambling over to the balcony door, you slid the heavy glass open, and were pleasantly surprised as warm tropical currents danced through the curtains. “Seventy degrees at midnight? Fuck this, I’m going to the beach!” Grinning to yourself, you skipped into the adjacent room and began rifling through your luggage to find one of your swim suits.

Since it was dark outside and you had no intention of getting in the water, you opted for the new green one given to you by your sister, not bothering to close your door since Misha was apparently nowhere to be found. After tying yourself into the contraption, you slid dark jean shorts over the bottoms and grabbed a towel from the bathroom before tying your long [Y/H/C]hair into a messy bun atop your head.

The halls were quiet as you walked barefoot to the elevator. The glass walls filled with moonlight as you descended from your tower like some proverbial princess. Once on the ground, you skirted around the hotel pools, filled with families and drinking coeds, instead choosing to walk out to the relatively empty sand lining the beach; rolling waves crashing over each other a few yards away before sluicing across your toes as you stood at the edge of the water.

Stepping from the shorts you’d worn through the hotel, you set them further away from where you stood before folding your legs under you and lying back on the sand.

Norman had looked up from his conversation around the pool just in time to see you walk out of the hotel, eyes briefly lifting to the crowds of people before changing course and moving through a stand of trees flanking one side of the tower. Excusing himself from the people around him, he grabbed his drink and trailed after you. Stopping in his tracks when you slid the shorts from your hips, he sucked in a breath at the sight of the dark green swim bottoms hugging your tight ass. He very nearly turned back the other way, but decided at the last moment to go say hello again, his own bare feet quiet as he moved across the beach.

“Hey..it’s [Y/F/N]…right?” The deep voice made you turn to look over your shoulder at the person approaching you. “Uh..yeah. Hello again Mr. Reedus.” Smiling up at the man as he stood next to you, the thought briefly crossed your mind that you were half naked on a beach in Hawaii talking to one of your celebrity crushes. Perhaps it was the shroud of darkness or maybe it was how he’d found you, but you weren’t nervous like you had been earlier. “Min’ if I join ya? ‘S gettin’ a bit crow’de by the pool.” Looking up and down the beach, there still weren’t many people around, and the sand stretched for miles. Clearly he wanted to be near you. “Sure.” A soft smile lingered over your mouth as he lowered himself to the ground next to you.

“So, how d’ya like workin’ for Misha s’far?” “Well, I mean, I’m on the beach in Hawaii, so I can’t really complain right?” Smirking as you raised your arms out in front of you for emphasis, he chuckled. “Though truth be told, I haven’t really done much work actual work yet. Kind’ve expected to be running around and being at his beck n’ call. Guess it’s only day one though right?” A quiet sound of understanding was his acknowledgement of your answer. “This yer firs’ time on the islands?” “Yeah, it’s amazing. And to think, two weeks ago I was upset about losing my last job.” “Who’dya work fer before?” Norman was unconsciously playing with a pile of sand, stacking the wet grains into random shapes between his outstretched legs.

You and Norman spoke for a few hours, hidden away by yourselves on that little stretch of beach. He seemed content to have someone to talk to and you realized, like Misha, that he was just a normal person. You learned he was in Hawaii filming his newest television series while on hiatus from The Walking Dead. “Well, you should take me for a ride sometime, Mr. Reedus. I haven’t been on a bike in years.” You’d said the sentence without giving it much thought and Norman considered you for a moment before agreeing, a shy smile ghosting over his features.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he held it out to you, encouraging you to put your number into his contacts list. After sending you a text with his number, he turned off the screen and rose to his feet, reaching a hand down to help you up. “So uh..’re ya with Misha then?” The question came suddenly and when you turned to look at him, he was staring off at the foaming waves as they crashed over each other. “What do you mean?” Cocking your head to the side, you wondered why he was asking. The look on his face was answer enough - his meaning was clear. “Oh! Uh…no? I mean, he’s married - ya know?” Your voice was quiet as you looked back at him, confusion evident on your face. “Why would you think that?” “ ‘S nuthin’. Jes was wonderin’.” “C’n I walk ya back?” Turning, you began to walk with the man next to you, wondering what it was that he had been talking about just now. When you got to the elevator and stepped inside, you realized his room was a few floors down from yours as you both reached forward to press the relevant buttons on the display. As the elevator ascended towards the top floor, Norman turned to you and opened his arms. “C’n I get a hug gu-nih sweetheart?” “Uhm, yeah, of course! Who would say no to that?!” “Savin’ myself a nice chunk of cash, gettin’ hugs for free!” Laughing you stepped forward and he folded you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. His subtle cologne mixed with the heat of his body was heady and you inhaled deeply before stepping back from his embrace. “This ‘s me.” He rumbled as the car eased to a stop, the entry smoothly opening. As he stepped out, he turned back and smiled before waving as the doors closed with a quiet hush.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader's first day of work in Hawaii and then some fun on the back of a bike :D

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Thursday came and went with little excitement, Misha leaving you to your own devices as he was briefed on that weekend’s convention schedule. You spent the day sun-bathing, napping and texting your sister about your first day in Hawaii.

Friday morning, you woke to the incessant buzzing of your phone. Cracking one eyelid, your vision slid into focus as you noted the annoying black device vibrating towards you along the table. Groaning, you winced as the backlight blinded you. It was six in the morning. “So much for this trip being a vacation, hah.” The six text messages surprised you and you began to scroll through them, expecting them to all be from Misha. Only that man would wake up six hours before the convention was due to start.

To your surprise, only five of them were from your boss. The sixth, was from Norman.

“Hey [Y/F/N], how ‘bout that ride today? ; )

Your heart fluttered for a moment, chills running down your arms. Sure, he’d said he’d text you - but you hadn’t actually expected him to. Your hands shook slightly as you typed out a quick response.

“That would be awesome! Let me get back to you after I check in with Mish. Woke up to five messages from him!”

Switching back to the group of messages from Misha, you sighed in relief when you realized they weren’t urgent. There was a picture of the sunrise and the beach where he’d gone running. The third was him letting you know the cast was getting together for drinks that night, asking if you wanted to go. Then one mentioning he was on his way back to the hotel, and finally one asking if you wanted coffee or tea since he was stopping anyhow.

The last message had been sent five minutes ago. Hurrying to respond, you asked for an earl grey latte before throwing the phone down on the bed and moving to find clothes for the day.

Fifteen minutes later, a dull thudding sound coming from across the room had you pulling the door open to see Misha, two paper cups in hand and a brown bag clenched in his teeth. Laughing, you grabbed the bag from his mouth and moved back, allowing him to join you in the room. “I grabbed some of those bantam bagels and a breakfast sandwich for you to go with your tea.” We’ve got a few hours of work ahead of us, but I figure if we get done by lunch, you can have the afternoon off. Did you want to go tonight?” Realizing you hadn’t answered that text, you quickly agreed. “Of course! I’m super excited to meet everyone!” Clutching the warm drink in your hand and raising it to your lips, you drank deeply of the caffeine before eyeballing the paper bag you’d set down on the table.

Misha wandered into his room to grab the laptop from his bag. “Here [Y/F/N], I’d like you to book us tickets to San Francisco for the first week of December and make the travel arrangements. I’m due at the convention Saturday morning, so we should probably get in Friday afternoon. The convention takes care of our hotel, but you should send the co-ordinator an email if you want your own room, they usually need a bit of notice for that kind of thing.”

With a bagel stuffed in one side of your mouth, you nodded in understanding as you pulled your tablet out and began writing a list of the things you needed to do.

“When you’re finished with that, do you think you might be able to find me something to wear to the luau tomorrow night? A fun shirt or something? I’m thinking my usual just isn’t going to cut it. Pick something nice up for yourself too while you’re out.” As you opened your mouth to protest, Misha held up a hand, effectively silencing you. “Before you say anything, just consider it a signing bonus.” “Think you can be ready by, say, nine?” Nodding as you scribbled the notes on your list, you moved out onto the balcony, deciding to work on booking flights in the sunshine. “Sounds good Misha, want to meet for lunch later?” “I’ll actually be out most of the day, if you need me feel free to send me a text.” Reaching into his back pocket, Misha pulled his wallet out before rifling through it for a moment and then selecting a card and handing it towards you. Taking it from him, you were surprised at the heaviness of it. The black and cobalt gradient running over the front wrapped around the metal rectangle. Flipping it over, the card number and identifying information were printed neatly in the bottom corner. “Kindly send me a screenshot of the flights you find before purchasing them please.” “How much do you want me to spend on your shirt, sir?” You were still writing notes and didn’t look up to see Misha’s body language quiet as he watched you at your task. “Whatever you like. I’m sure you can figure out what is and isn’t appropriate.” Snapping your head up, you rose from the chair as Misha turned from the room. “Uh, no. You just gave me a credit card and I’d have a hard time spending thirty dollars on a shirt, so, I mean, can I at least have a range?! And, I don’t even know your style, what are you looking for?” Misha turned as your cool fingers touched his skin and he smiled at the apprehension on your face. Grabbing both of your hands in his, he looked straight at you, demanding eye contact as a smile spread on his face. You stilled as you looked back at him - damn if those eyes weren’t easy to fall into…

“I have complete faith in you [Y/F/N], pick something that you’d like, doesn’t have to be fancy. And keep it under two-hundred?” “You’ll do fine.” With a final squeeze to your hands, he turned again and disappeared back into his room, leaving you with your assignments.

Settling into the table, being warmed by the morning sun you dove into searching for flights immediately, comparing the differing airlines and seat arrangements. As simple as it seems, you enjoyed this kind of work. It kept you busy while placating the organization skills that you couldn’t function without. Within the hour you’d found suitable flights for a pretty decent price and took a screenshot to send to Misha. Your phone notification sounded almost immediately; “Well that was fast,” you mused - sliding the menu screen open.

“Busy, busy eh? How about that ride?”

At first, you were confused, thinking it was Misha that had responded so quickly. Realizing it was Norman, you cursed to yourself. You’d completely forgotten to text him back. Glancing down at the clock, you noted it was only almost eight.

“Wanna meet for lunch around eleven?”

Another text. This one from Misha. “Try again [Y/F/N] - how can I utilize your assistance properly if you’ve put yourself in coach?” “Dates and times look good though, just update your seat and send me the confirmation.” He’d included his email address in the message. You sighed, but made the changes he requested anyhow before clicking on the checkout button. Buzzing twice in a row, you picked up your phone and saw that Misha had received the confirmation, and Norman had responded:

“It’s a date” ; )

Crossing the flights off of your list, you moved on to making travel arrangements. Several driving companies surrounded the airport you planned to fly into and you quickly made reservations with the best reviewed. After shooting a quick email to the convention organizers requesting two hotel rooms, you closed your laptop and gathered everything before heading back into the dim, air conditioned room.

After taking a quick shower and blow drying your hair, you stepped back into your room to get dressed. Settling on a pair of cut-offs and a Zeppelin t-shirt, you pulled a pair of boots from the closet you’d finally managed to unpack now that it was halfway through the week and laced them up over your socks. While the warm weather made wearing heavy boots less comfortable, one thing you’d remembered from growing up on the back of a bike was that you had to wear good shoes. Technically, you should’ve also worn pants, but you needed to be at least a little comfortable.

As the last hour ticked by, your nerves began worrying at you, and try as you might to calm them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t startle when a heavy knock sounded on your door. Wiping your hands against the denim covering your thighs, you rose to answer the door.

“Hey, hey sweetheart, ya ready ta go?” Norman stood before you, dark Ray-bans wrapped over his eyes; a black hat pulled down over his shaggy auburn hair. Grinning widely you turned to grab your phone and wallet before closing the door behind you. “So, where ya wan’na go? Throwing an arm across your shoulders, he led you down the hallway.

Walking out to the parking lot, you waited as Norman swung one of his long legs over the seat of his bike, slowly backing the machine away from it’s parking spot. Looking up at you, he smirked as he waited for you to join him. Stepping up to the edge of the curb, you straddled the now rumbling monster, balancing yourself with one hand on Norman’s shoulder before seating yourself behind him. With a twist of the throttle, the bike lurched forward, and you pressed yourself against his broad back, gripping his waist with only your thighs as he accelerated out onto the main road.

Pulling into a Hawaiian barbeque place fifteen minutes later, you steadied yourself on his shoulders as you stood up from the bike. “Ya like bar-ba-que lady?” The deep voice reminded you of the bike you’d just stepped off of and it sent a chill through your body as the smell of smoked meat drew you to the front doors. “Uh, does a bear shit in the woods?” Norman laughed as he held the door open to let you pass through. Sitting down at the outdoor patio, you attacked the brisket and pulled pork you’d ordered from the run-down little establishment. “So, where’d ya learn ta ride?” Norman sat across from you, momentarily taken aback with the obscene sounds that drifted from your body as you savored the food before you, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Opening them at the question, your face reddened as the man across from you removed his sunglasses and fixed you with his light blue eyes. “Blue, just like Misha’s, but lighter.” You mused to yourself before answering. “My dad. I spent a lot of time on his bike growing up. He was a Harley guy too.” Norman grunted in appreciation as he continued eating. Eyeing your t-shirt, he rose an eyebrow, “ya like Zeppelin eh?” Grinning, you nodded enthusiastically, launching into an animated discussion of your favorite songs and how you liked a lot of classic and modern rock.

Over the next hour, you talked about everything from the weather to relationships - good and bad and your hobbies. You learned that, while they filmed in Georgia, Norman actually lived in New York and spent a lot of time sculpting and painting when he was home, which wasn’t very often. “I always wan’na be doin’ sum’thin.” “Get kin-a res’less if I’m in one place too long, ya know?” “Sounds like a helluvan adventure actually.” Rising from the table, the two of you made your way back to the front of the establishment before climbing back on the bike. “Ya can hol’ on ya know. I ain’t gonna bite cha…” “Oh, but biting’s excellent - it’s like kissing, only… there’s a winner!” You laughed, but wrapped your arms low around his waist, sliding your hands under his vest to splay your fingers over his muscled abdomen. “Well then, darlin’ I’ll hafta keep that in mind.”

The next several hours flew by in a blur, you and Norman spent the time driving along the coast, stopping occasionally to sit in the sand and watch the waves crash over the beach. At one point, you stopped to pluck a plumeria blossom from one of the fragrant trees that dotted the park you were walking through, carefully tucking it behind your right ear. The yellow and white flower striking against your [Y/H/C] hair. Reaching into your back pocket, you took your phone out and flipped on the camera, taking a picture to send to your sister back home. This island was so amazing, you almost didn’t want to go back. “Hey, Norman, can we take a picture? My sister will never believe me if I try to tell her what I’ve done with my day.” Chuckling, he ambled over, throwing an arm around your neck and pulling you harshly against his side. Taking your phone, he held it up in the air before releasing the shutter a couple of times. “Alrigh’, one more.” Turning the camera sideways, he squeezed you closer into his side and as you looked up into the screen, he turned and pressed his lips to your cheek right as he hit the button. Blushing to yourself, you took the phone back from him and mumbled a thank you as you busied yourself with sending her the pictures.

Upon returning to the hotel, you checked your phone again as you said goodbye to Norman, with the promise to text him later. You were surprised to see there were no messages from Misha, he must be busy you thought to yourself before heading for the outdoor shopping area.

Drifting in and out of several shops trying to decide what to pick up for Misha was pretty challenging, but you ended up settling on a blue Hawaiian print shirt that was nearly the same color as his eyes. Gods that man had beautiful eyes. You’d never seen anything like them. Perhaps you were a bit biased, but you’d always been attracted to guys with dark hair and light eyes, and that rough stubble peppered over his jaw certainly didn’t hurt.

Checking the time, you noted it was nearly seven thirty and you still had to find yourself something to wear. After trying on several things you finally asked for help from one of the sales associates in a store filled with dresses. “Hi, I’m looking for something to wear to a beach party tomorrow night, something nice but not too formal? Your Green eyes searched hers and she smiled back before bustling out from behind the counter to dig through the racks.

When your phone began ringing, you quickly answered Misha’s call, holding the device up to your ear. “Hey, [Y/F/N], you  gonna be ready soon?” Pulling the phone away to glance at the time, you cursed under your breath when you noticed it was quickly approaching eight. You’d never been more happy that you had showered that morning. “Uh, yeah, give me twenty? Oh! Wait, that stuff you wanted me to buy is for tomorrow right? Not tonight?!” He laughed through the phone and assured you that was correct. “Come in whatever you’re wearing now, we’re just going out to a few bars after all.” Promising to meet him at the room, you spent another ten minutes choosing between a couple of dresses the woman had suggested and paid for your purchase before flying back through the shopping center and up to your room. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader goes out for drinks with Misha and the SPN cast, but ducks out early to spend time with Norman (WHAT?!?!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: SMUT! Reader Frustration
> 
> Also: Norman has wormed his way into this story and I keep having ideas in mind that I end up writing entirely differently because of it :O

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Panting, you shut the door behind you, running into the bathroom in an attempt to make yourself halfway presentable. After brushing your teeth and refreshing your perfume, you pulled a brush through your wind-blown hair. “[Y/F/N]? Are you ready?!” Looking up from the drawer you were rifling through, you blew the hair out of your face as you wriggled into the AC/DC tank top from last week. It’d have to do. Just as the hem dropped over the black bra you were wearing, Misha walked through the door. “Yep, let’s go!” Purposefully you ignored the salacious grin that spread over his face when he saw the shirt drop to cover your exposed skin.

The crowded bar was noisy, and Misha kept a firm grip on your wrist as he led you through the throngs of people. Towards the back a few tables had been pushed together to make room for the cast members who’d chosen to come out tonight. “Hey Misha!” Kim waved the two of you over and several voices echoed her greeting before turning to you. “Everyone, this is [Y/F/N], [Y/F/N], this is…everyone.” Briana sidled up to you, and wrapping an arm around your waist, asked what you were drinking. “Oh..uh..whiskey?” “Woo! Thas mah girl!!” Turning she made her way to the bar to order a round of shots for the party. Returning a few minutes later holding a tray stacked with shot glasses, she handed one over to you before passing out the others. Turning towards you, Misha held his drink aloft, “Welcome to the Supernatural family [Y/F/N]” before tipping his head back. You did the same, savoring the sweet burn as the liquid traveled down your throat. Cringing slightly, you shook your head as you were handed another. The second shot went down easier as the muscles across your shoulders flooded with warmth.

Nursing a Jameson and Dr. Pepper kept you buzzed for the better part of the next hour. Your alcohol metabolism was a fearsome thing, and if you ever wanted to stay tipsy for more than ten minutes, you had to consistently have a drink in hand. You’d learned over the years that the number of drinks didn’t matter,  it was more about how you drank them.

As the hours wore on, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself and found that you fit in well with the group of people who’d quickly become your friends. Jared was talking to you about your favorite music when the dim floor flooded with the sounds of Alice Cooper. Eyes widening, you set your drink down and grabbed the hands of Kim, Briana, Daneel and Gen - begging them to come and dance with you. Usually you weren’t a fan of being the center of attention, but once you started drinking, all inhibitions flew out the window.

Misha was watching intently as your hips swayed to the music. Those tiny shorts kept drawing his attention to the curve of your ass and he groaned under his breath at the sudden need to touch you. As the song ended, he watched you return to the table, a thin sheen of sweat now covering your chest as you worked to catch your breath. A wide smile spread across your face and you picked up the drink you’d left several minutes prior.

The vibration of your phone startled you for a moment, but you pulled it from your pocket anyhow.

“Wha’cha doin’ tonight?”

Your heart rate increased as a hundred thoughts chased themselves around your head. Giggling to yourself, your fingers felt numb as the room shifted around you. Having enough sense to pull yourself up onto a bar stool so you didn’t have to concentrate on keeping yourself vertical, you debated on how to respond.

Your fingers flew over the keys as you typed out what you thought was a witty response. “You hopefully.” Smirking, your finger hovered over the send button. You were trying to work up the courage to go through with it. Instead, at the last minute you deleted the message and went with something less desperate. “Having some drinks with the Supernatural cast. You?” Locking your phone, you set it down on the table in front of you, and continued sipping your drink. A few minutes later, your vision lasered in on the black device, which was now vibrating towards you along the surface where it rested. Picking it up, you saw Norman had just decided to call you instead of texting and you drug your finger along the screen, before putting it up to your ear. “Hey, what’s up?” “Hey lady, where are ya? God damn, that voice though. You stifled the soft growl that threatened to escape from your throat. “Someplace called Pele?” “It’s downtown I think. Do you know it?” A low chuckle echoed through the line. “Meet me outside?” “Fuuhh..hucck.” The groan was almost passable enough to hide the desire in your tone. More laughter from his end let you know that he had caught on to your frustration. Blushing you agreed before hanging up. Holding onto the table in front of you for balance, you shook your head - taking a few sips of ice water to help steady your movements. “Hey Mish, I’m gonna head back. You okay?” He was on his fifth shot, head nodding enthusiastically as he threw an arm around Jensen’s neck, whispering to his best friend even though his eyes never left yours.

The cool midnight air chased the remaining fog from your mind as you walked out the front door. A few minutes later, the provocative rumble of Norman’s bike caught your attention.

————————————————————–

You woke with a start to the sound of someone pounding on the door. Ignoring it wasn’t an option you soon realized as it continued, undeterred. Groggily, you pulled off the blankets you’d wrapped yourself in and lowered your feet to the floor. Still wearing the tank top from earlier that night, you had managed to take off your shorts before falling face first into the down blankets, but the thought never crossed your mind as you padded towards the incessant racket.

Pulling the door open, you groaned as Misha stepped through the entryway, harsh fluorescent lights streaming in around him. “Sorry if I woke you [Y/F/N], I seem to have misplaced my room key.” Waving a dismissive hand in his general direction, you moved to let him pass in front of you before closing the door. Turning back towards Misha as it clicked shut, you nearly ran into the man. He’d stopped in his tracks upon seeing your disheveled appearance. Abruptly, you were wide awake, heart beating frantically as he stepped towards you. One hand reached out to brush fingers along your hip, the other traveling up to cup the right side of your face as he took another step closer.

Groaning, he leaned forward, resting his head against yours. “You really have no idea what you’re doing to me right now…” You were just about to question his statement when both hands shifted to cement themselves to your waist, drifting down to caress your panty-clad ass, the cotton fabric riding up as his grip tightened and you found your feet leaving the ground. Turning, he shoved you into the wall as his lips found your neck. Unconsciously, your fingers threaded through his hair, tilting your head to accept his advances. Several times, they made contact with your fevered skin before he pulled away, chest heaving. Even in the dark, the small amount of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains illuminated his sapphire eyes as his breathing quickened and he pressed his chest to yours. Ducking his head briefly, he looked back into your [Y/E/C] irises, words hushed but clear “Do you want this [Y/F/N]?” Nodding, you reached forward, palms resting against the t-shirt stretched over his chest as you lowered your lips to his.

With your legs wrapped snugly around his waist and your back pressed into the wall, Misha ran his hands the length of your torso. The stubble decorating his jaw scraped over your neck as his attention moved to the juncture where your pulse met your shoulder. Setting his teeth into the soft skin, you groaned as his hips rutted between your legs. The strength of his hands as they moved to your waist lifted the dark material of your tank top to expose your stomach. Breath heavy as he lifted the thin material over the swell of  your chest, Misha’s eyes widened as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

Closing his lips around one nipple, he teased you, alternating between sucking and testing his teeth against the sensitive flesh. Your back arched and an involuntary moan escaped between your lips as he pulled back, blowing cool air over the now swollen flesh.

Returning his hands to your belly, the electricity flowing from his fingers shot through your body, ripping a strangled cry from your throat as one hand braced against the wall while the other ghosted across the panties you still wore. For a moment he moved his hand along the fabric quickly before growing impatient and shoving his fingers past the elastic and into the folds at the apex of your thighs. The warmth spreading through you flared as his hips ground against yours, heavy sighs falling from his open mouth.

“Fuhh-ck, you’re so wet baby.” The praise caressed your senses as Misha drew his thumb over your clit before sliding two fingers into the heat of your body. Curling them against the front of your belly, you threw your head back as you attempted to control the moans that threatened to escape. “C’mon [Y/F/N], let me hear that pretty voice of yours..why don’t you tell me what you want..hmmm?” As if to emphasize his request, Misha dug his hips into yours again, more insistent as his cock strained against the constricting denim of the pants he still wore.

Opening your eyes, you tilted his chin up to press your lips against his, smiling into the kiss while your hands traveled down from where they’d been threaded through his dark hair to play with the hem of his black t-shirt. As your fingers ghosted over the warm skin of his belly, your mouth traveled to his jaw and neck, peppering wet kisses anywhere your lips touched. His skin flushed with a wave of goosebumps as your breath fanned across him, breathing heavily as you spoke “Fuhh..hhhuuuck.” The sigh fell from your lips before taking the lobe of his ear between your teeth.

Twisting your hands in his shirt, you hurried to lift it over his head, dropping it to lie forgotten at his feet; only tearing your mouth from his neck for an instant. The warmth of his body encouraged you to spread your fingers over his skin as your hands made their way to his belt buckle. Deftly, your fingers made quick work of the brass fastener, the sound of his zipper assaulting your senses as you reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock.  

Strong fingers closed around your wrist and yanked your hand free to press it over your head. A deep growl reverberated through Misha’s chest before he removed the fingers still playing along your wetness to grip the base of his length, pushing it against the front of your soaked panties. The strength cording through his forearms coupled with the sounds he made tore through the rest of your inhibitions as your hips bucked forward against his touch. The fingers you’d been running over his torso tipped and your nails bit into his muscled back, red welts chasing the lines caused by your pleasure.

[Y/F/N]’s enthusiasm engulfed Misha as his hand bunched in the cotton fabric of her panties and shoved them to the side; hips snapping forward in his need to feel her around him. Guiding his thick length through the folds of her soaked core was nearly his undoing, and he could feel her contracting around nothing as he moved over her clit, the swollen bundle of nerves teasing the sensitive skin of his head. She moved against him freely now, no longer shy as her hips thrust into his. Wanton moans of his name dripped from parted lips, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she struggled against his hold on her. “Miiiiiii..ssshhhhuuuh..pleeahheesse?!”

There it was…the barest of whispers. But it was enough. Eyes wild, the pressure he exuded where his fingers dug into her hips was sure to leave bruises, the skin around his fingers white as he dug into her flesh. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her, to fill her up until she screamed, but he hadn’t been prepared for this to happen tonight. Turning, he carried her the three steps to the bed, releasing her wrists she fell from his hips to land with a small bounce against the cool sheets, long [Y/H/C] tresses fanning out around her as he knelt between her legs.

Using the momentum of Misha’s body as he fell to the bed, you flipped him to his back, the surprise evident on his face as he stared up into your bright [Y/E/C] eyes. Wasting no time, you grabbed his wrists, pinning them to his side as you stretched over him. “My turn. Behave yourself Mr. Collins..no touching. Understand?” A slow smile crept over his features, but his head inclined in aquiesment as you moved down his body, appreciating the lithe muscles that rippled beneath his skin. As you inched below his belly button, his breath hitched, hissing between his teeth as you bit into his tanned skin, sucking for a moment before pulling away; blowing warm breath across the damp surface - a shiver running through his body at the sensation.

He itched to put his hands on her, fuck she felt amazing between his thighs. Looking down as she kissed his skin and took her time savoring his body, her chest pressed flat against him, that tight ass wriggling subconsciously in the air…it was almost too much. He watched as she wrapped long, deliberate, fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing gently before turning those stunning Green eyes up to look into his own, the fan of dark lashes she stared through both challenging and questioning. Just as he’d imagined it would be. Fingers dug into the sheets at his side as she flattened her tongue and licked a strip of heat along his length, sealing her lips over his head, teasing him with the isolated attention for a moment before taking him into her throat.

Humming in satisfaction as he slid along your tongue, hands splayed over his thighs before dipping down to cup his balls, your soft touch drawing a groan from Misha’s throat. As you backed off his length, your tongue swirled around the sensitive skin of his frenulum for a moment before you swallowed him down again. “Dammit woman, fu..huu -  nnnnnggg…” Threading a hand into the waterfall of your hair dragging over his fevered skin, he’d forgotten himself and your instructions - intent on fucking that talented mouth of yours until he spilled down your throat. Hollowing your cheeks around his thickness, you growled, gently setting a small amount of pressure on either side of him as you found a rhythm, twisting one hand around his base in the opposite direction your tongue traveled.

Misha snapped his hips forward into the girl’s waiting mouth, movements becoming erratic as the minutes ticked by. He was close, muscles tensing as his pace increased. The moans spilling from [Y/F/N]’s lips vibrating along his desperate cock pushed him over the edge, but a few good thrusts before he was sure to come, she sealed her lips around his head, two strong pulls tearing a ragged scream from his throat before she pulled her mouth off of him with a soft pop. Eyes darting around as his cock twitched in her hand, a knowing grin spread across her face as her eyes narrowed. “What did I say Misha?” Her grip tightened around him and she leaned forward, flicking her tongue against the sensitive skin below his head, eliciting a torturous groan to fall from his mouth. “Fuhhhh..uuhh..please [Y/F/N], pleee..ssuuhhh babe…”

With zero warning, her mouth closed around him again, shoving his cock to hit the back of her throat as her tongue massaged his shuddering length, fingers wrapping around his wrists in a bruising grip as she held them pinned to his sides. One final constriction of her lips sent him over the edge, and he came in a hot rush, but [Y/F/N] was eager, swallowing him down before drawing him out of her mouth and falling with a sigh to the bed next to him. Turning to looking at the man beside her, his chest heaving with the effort of recovery, she smirked, crawling up to dart her tongue along the curve of his ear, a whisper fell from her fevered lips “first fuckup is free..after that…”

Confidence coursed through you as you slid from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click behind you. What the fuck was that?! You wondered to yourself. You certainly weren’t complaining but….okay..well…maybe a little bit - there’d been no relief for you, but then again, you hadn’t expected there to be. No one, aside from yourself had ever been able to break that coil inside you, regardless of how tightly it was wound. Still, you held out hope for the future as your hands began to ghost over your body. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha sneaks away before morning and Reader is left feeling a bit...angsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

 

Saturday dawned early, and was, by far going to be the busiest day of the weekend based on the looks of your schedule. Misha was due on stage by noon, and he was gone before you had woken up. Not that it mattered much. When you’d left the bathroom early this morning, he’d already disappeared into his own room.  

Checking your phone, you couldn’t say you were terribly surprised at the lack of messages, so you threw yourself into your work, pushing the thoughts of the night before to the back of your mind. Dressing quickly, you grabbed your messenger bag before hurrying downstairs to find breakfast.

Ten minutes later, your phone began going off. Texts from Misha, one after another for a solid thirty seconds:

“Hey [Y/F/N] can you stop at the hotel coffee shop to pick up the cast coffee? Use the card I gave you yesterday and meet us in the green room.”

The following eight messages were orders from everyone. You were glad they were all written down, there was no way you’d remember the subtleties of the requests on your own. Groaning as you approached the Starbucks, you noted the line out the door and texted Misha an update, saying you’d be there as soon as you could. Thirty minutes later, you were approaching the front of the line and you couldn’t wait; the hunger gnawing at your stomach had put your nerves on edge and, along with your confused frustration from last night, you weren’t in the best of moods.

Stepping up to the counter, you greeted the barista with as genuine of a smile as you could muster. “I’m afraid I have a rather big order, so I apologize in advance..” Your weak smile faltered around the edges as you began to rattle off the orders, fingers scrolling through the numerous texts. After paying, you wandered to the pick-up counter, separating two drink carriers from the stack resting atop the shiny, dark-stained walnut bar. Grabbing eight straws and wrapping them in a handful of napkins, you waited for the drinks to start appearing. After double checking that the order was correct, you stacked the hot cups precariously on top of each other and turned to thread your way through the crowds of people still lining up for their own dose of morning caffeine. “Wait! Miss!” Craning your head behind you, you saw one of the coffee shop employees striding towards you with the box of danishes and breakfast sandwiches you’d decided to buy as well. “Oh! Thanks, you are a life-saver!” Eyes rolling in exasperation, you shifted the tower of drinks to one arm and grabbed the box with the other. Your vision now mostly obscured by paper cups and the danish box, you never saw the person in front of you as you turned and walked straight into him. “Well now, good mornin’ sweeheart. Can I help you with that?” Mumbling to yourself as you checked to make sure nothing had spilled, you looked up to see Jeffrey Dean Morgan smiling down at you through his neatly trimmed silver beard, a baseball cap pulled snugly over his dark hair, one hand resting on your shoulder while the other had prevented your purchases from tumbling to the ground. You insisted you were okay, but as you turned to make your way through the door, he took the box of danishes from you, effectively freeing one of your hands so you could get a better grip on the rest of the drinks. “Uh, thanks Mr. Morgan.” “Please, Jeffrey is more than fine. Mr. Morgan is my father.” “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that these aren’t all for you?” One dark eyebrow shot into the air as a bemused expression crossed over his face. “ ‘Mornin’ Sunshine..” The familiar gravelly voice lilted over the heads of the crowded coffee shop and you turned to find Norman walking towards you, two drinks of his own in hand. “Bubbs! What’s up man? I was just helping this young lady with her breakfast.” A deep chuckle erupted from the man’s chest as he leaned back on his heels, the box raised in greeting at Norman. Beaming up at the man approaching you, you greeted him; “Mornin’ yourself Mr. Reedus! I’d give ya a hug, but well…as you can see, I’m all out of arms at the moment.”

“Guess I’ll hafta take a rain check then huh?” One bright blue eye dipped in a wink as he moved to hold the door for you.

You realized rather quickly, that you had no idea where the green room was, though you assumed it was at least in the same building as the main panel hall. Flagging down a convention volunteer, you shifted the stacks of drinks to one hand, blowing an errant tendril of hair from your eyes as you asked for help. Initially she had been hesitant to point you in the right direction, but once she saw Jeff and Norman with you, she relented. “Down this hallway, around the corner, take another left and you’ll see it. With a mumbled “thank you”, the three of you set off down the hall.

“Dad!” “Hey hey, ol’ man!” A quick jab to the ribs from Jensen as Jeffery pulled open the door set the whole room off with good natured laughter while you passed out the drinks to their respective owners. “Hey [Y/F/N], mind runnin’ back upstairs? I forgot the shirt you bought me yesterday like the ass I am and I kinda need it for my panel in a few minutes?” With a poorly disguised sigh, you rose from your seat, snatching a bacon and egg sandwich before setting off with your room key. “Hey, wait up Sunshine I’ll come wi’ ya.” Holding the door open behind him, a soft smile filled his face at your appreciation.

“Ya alrigh’?” Norman had noticed the lack of your normally cheerful demeanor as you walked silently down the hall towards your room. “Yeah, just lost in thought I guess.” A heavy arm on your shoulder made you pause and look at the man standing next to you. “Wan’na talk abou’ it?” “I’m a pretty good lis’ner.” Sighing, you decided to ask him his opinion.

“Norman..you’re a guy..” “Las’ time I check’d sweet’har” a small chuckle accompanied the statement as you told him that Misha had barely said two words to you today. “Hu’… di’jall fuck?” “ I wish it were that simple.” “No, I’m guessing I scared him away..I can be a bit…intense, ha.” Grabbing the bag with your purchases from the day before, you were in and out of the hotel room before the door had closed behind you.

Back in the green room, you pulled the shirt from the bag, silently handing it to Misha as he ran out the door after hearing Rob announce his name to the audience, raucous cheering drowning out his voice as the familiar introduction filtered through the hallway. Over the course of the afternoon, you barely stopped to take a breath, Misha had you running back and forth to the room and on various errands every other minute. Taking a moment to inhale the salty ocean breeze, you reminded yourself that you were still on the islands, working for Misha Collins and making friends with new people everyday. “I really should be more grateful…” you mused. “Besides, the concert and luau tonight should be a ton of fun.” After another deep breath, you felt better, you’d just have to get used to being busy. Busy meant you were working though, and working hard made the day pass faster.

Your ringing phone pulled you from the brief break as you turned to hurry back to the convention center, answering the phone without even noticing who it was. “Hey bitch! What happened to daily reports?!” The disappointment in your sister’s voice was barely perceptible, but you noticed it anyhow. “Oh,sister..it’s so good to hear your voice!” You spent the next few minutes catching up and telling her about what had happened the night before.” “Wow love..you know how to deal with that right?” Laughing at her indiscreet and obvious solution and the absurd amount of ease with which she’d come to her conclusion, you were suddenly even happier that she’d called. Her timing really couldn’t have been better. As your phone beeped, you pulled the receiver from your ear to see that Misha was calling. “Hey, I gotta go hun I’ll talk to you later?” “Mmmhm, sure sure.” But she said goodbye anyhow and you switched over to the waiting call.

“Hey Misha, what’s up?” “Where are you [Y/F/N]?” “I’m on my way back to the green room now, did you need anything while I’m on my way?” “I just realized I forgot to thank you for the shirt, everyone loves it. See? Told ya you could handle it!” His deep laughter rumbled through the line then, and the remaining tension in your shoulders melted away, a smile spreading across your face. “So, what’re ya wearin’ tonight?” “It’s a–” Changing your mind mid-sentence, you decided on a different approach. One of indifference.  “Clothes, Misha - clothes.” “Speaking of which, if you don’t need anything else - I’m going to go take a shower and start getting ready.” Ending the call, a self-satisfied smirk replaced the earlier unease. Squaring your shoulders, you tipped the dark sunglasses from the top of your head to fall over your eyes as you turned in the opposite direction and stepped into the glass elevator that would take you to your room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets ready for the luau Saturday night.

****

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

For a brief moment, your mind swirled with doubt. You’d have never dreamt of talking to your boss in such a condescending tone, and you tried to persuade yourself that it hadn’t been intentionally catty…

Shaking your head, you knew that wasn’t true. Trying to convince yourself you’d hidden your irritation from Misha was all the proof you’d needed to realize your mistake. “Too late now…” you mused. Hopefully your new boss would put it out of his mind and move on, much as he’d done with the activities of the previous night.

Leaning against the back wall of the elevator as it painstakingly climbed through the air, you closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the cool air swirling through the structure around you. Unlike most interior elevators, this one lacked the musty, cloying smell of metal and oil. As your mind was filled with the possibility of whether elevators came with dedicated air conditioners, the lift slowed and the heavy doors opened. Stepping forward, you scrutinized the unfamiliar pale green walls and looked around you. Noticing you’d inadvertently gotten off before your stop, you turned back around, extending your finger to press the call button; the golden light of the panel flaring around the intrusion.

“[Y/F/N]?” Shoulders tensing as the familiar voice floated down the hallway, you slowly lifted your head and winced as Norman strolled towards you, an easy smile spreading across his face. “I swear, I’m not stalking you.” Groaning, you offered the man a tentative smile as you assaulted the button in front of you again, willing it to hurry. “I’unno…ya do ‘ave my picture on yer wallet…” Norman’s large shoulders lifted briefly before dropping, his hands thrust into the front pockets of the loose charcoal jeans he wore. “Don’t flatter yourself Mr. Reedus. My wallet has Daryl on it, two completely different things,” you reasoned. “Nah, I know Daryl. There’s a lotta me in ‘im, and a lotta ‘im in me.” Turning your head as Norman approached, you raised an eyebrow as the whisper fell from your lips; “kinky…” A huff of levity his response, the man slowed to a stop just as the doors opened again.

“So, did ya talk ta Misha?” Bristling to yourself, you managed a quiet “nope” as the elevator doors closed with a hush and the car continued to climb. “Why nah?” Flicking your eyes to the light blue ones staring down at you, your resolve began to falter. Were you being childish with the hope that he’d miraculously understand your vexation? “And whaddya mean when ya said you could be “intense?”” He put ‘intense’ in air quotes before lowering his hands again. A short bark of laughter escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing momentarily as you turned to look at your friend. Shrugging, you launched into what had happened the night before, watching his face for any hint of a reaction.

Invested as you were in the re-telling of your situation, you stepped from the elevator as the doors opened for the second time, Norman trailing behind you as you moved through the hallway towards your room. Pulling the key card from your pocket, you slid it into the door, shoving on the handle before it had fully unlocked. Norman, having not paid attention ran into you as your body collided with the barrier which had remained firmly locked. Stiffening at the contact, you sucked in a breath, waiting for him to move back. When he didn’t, instead catching himself with a firm hand against the cream-colored wood you had to take a steadying breath. Trying a second time, you were only slightly disappointed when the lights blinked rapidly and the soft click of the lock shifted as the door opened.

Flopping backwards on the bed, you threw an arm over your face as you continued with your story. “Everytime we sit down to talk about our “relationship”, we get interrupted. I mean, I know he’s married and I’ve met Vicki, she’s fucking amazing. “I’m feeling a bit…tawdry right now and so I’m just going to put my big girl panties on and wait for this all to blow over.” With a huff, you moved the arm from your face and turned your eyes back to the man standing in front of you. Involuntarily, you shivered. He stood at the foot of the bed, his thick forearms crossed over one another as he regarded your evident distress. Suddenly, his shoulders began to shake, a tight-lipped grin belying his attempt at sympathy as he shook his head. “What’s so funny?” Scowling, you lifted yourself into a sitting position and, pushing against his rigid frame, you weren’t surprised when he didn’t even step off balance. “Nuthin’, nuthin’…” He was still trying not to laugh. “Sounds ta me like ya all hot n’ bothered fer yer boss there now Sunshine…” “I dun’ geddit though, ya even said he never gotcha off, so what’s with the fangirlin?” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes, “yeah, well I’m used to it.”

“Well, if ya were mah girl, ya wouldna’ be able ta wal’ when I was through with ya.” Patting his chest reassuringly, you smiled - though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’ve heard that before.” “Anyhow, I gotta go get ready for this party tonight.” Walking with him to the door, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing briefly before stepping away. “Thanks for letting me ramble.” A ghost of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, and he ducked his head, nodding briefly before stepping outside.

As soon as the door shut behind Norman, you turned and stripped off the shirt you were wearing; padding into the bathroom to start the shower. Leaning against the cool marble countertop, you surveyed yourself in the mirror. Methodically, you began taking various containers and palettes from your makeup bag and arranging them on the surface before you. Normally you opted for a light-touch, if your wore make-up at all. But you’d decided to take your sister’s advice, going all out and teasing him right back wasn’t childish…right?

An incoming text drew your attention from the task before you, and you clicked on the notification from Norman;

“Lemme know if ya need a date fer yer party ;)”

Thinking about it only briefly, you replied with concurrence before tossing the device out onto your bed and stepping into the shower.

*******************

Fingers working over the keypad, Misha wrote several texts before deleting each one. Sighing before slipping the phone back into his pocket, he resolved to talk to [Y/F/N] about why he’d left in such a hurry this morning.

Lowering himself to the plush cushions of the soft grey sectional couch, he stared out the window, musing about how he should approach it. He’d already tried acting as if nothing was wrong, clearly she hadn’t responded well to that idea. For a brief moment he contemplated calling Vicki and asking her opinion, but quickly dismissed the thought. He needed to talk to [Y/F/N] directly. Completely. No more interruptions.

Striding across his room to the door he shared with [Y/F/N], he rose a fist, intent on getting the conversation started as quickly as possible. Pausing when he heard music flowing over from the next room, he decided instead to put it off until tonight. He’d never been one to avoid uncomfortable situations but there was something about this woman that set him on edge. Dropping his hand, he turned from the door, picking up the bright Hawaiian print shirt and laying it out on his bed with a pair of jeans. The sunny yellow pineapples splashed across the front made him smile as he made his way into the bathroom to begin readying himself for his role in the celebrations that night.

********************

Immediately after stepping from the glass walls of the shower, you parted the long, thick hair clinging to your fevered skin into three sections before twisting them into a tight braid. The simple task kept the hair from your face and would provide soft, beachy waves for the luau tonight. It was a win-win. Sliding your hands across the still damp surface of your skin, you smiled. The lavender and mint sugar scrub you’d spread over your body had made you soft to the touch.

Rummaging through the top drawer of the hotel dresser, you pulled a pair of simple panties from the depths. Dropping the thick, white towel from your body, you stepped into the garment. Edged with black lace, the blue boyshorts hugged the curve of your ass. You’d always preferred boy shorts, feeling they were way more comfortable and attractive than thongs, which you’d never really understood the appeal of. Scrunching your nose in distaste, you muttered under your breath that you’d rather wearing nothing than deal with fabric in your ass all day.

You laughed to yourself at how easily your mind was prone to wandering as you returned to the bathroom to apply makeup. Your favorite part of the arduous process was choosing the colors and style you’d be using on your eyes. Selecting a matte navy blue shadow you spread it across your eyelids, blending the edges into an inky black. At the inside corner of your eye, you chose a steel grey, using a creamy white to highlight the darker colors and bring life to the smoky eye. Finishing by lining your upper lid and waterline with a kohl pencil, you stood back and surveyed the result. Applying two layers of mascara enhanced your already long eyelashes and framed the brilliance of your Green irises.

After finishing the rest of your makeup, you plugged in the blow dryer and ran it over the thick braid in an attempt to get the waves you wanted to set faster.

Turning to the dress you’d bought the day before, you scrutinized the billowy fabric while lifting it out of the shopping bag by your bed. The primary dress was short, falling to mid-thigh in a navy so dark, most people might say it was black. An overlay of long chiffon wrapped around the garment in diverse values one might see from the ocean; the layers that would wrap around your chest matched the base color, evenly fading from midnight to a clear, bright cerulean. Untying the airy fabric, you slid into the dress, pulling it up around your curving thighs to cover the black strapless bra you’d added for support. Cinching the wide swaths of fabric around your body accentuated your cleavage. The saleswoman had mentioned there were varying ways to wear the dress, with options for a halter tie, a one shoulder crossover and the timeless look of strapless. Trying all three options, you decided you liked the one shoulder crossover the best. After tying a knot in the fabric to hold the dress up, the remainder flowed seamlessly down your back to blend with the outer layers of the dress.

Crossing the room to where several pairs of shoes were lined up in the closet you considered each one, but in the end, decided to go barefoot. This party was on the beach after all and your lack of shoes took the dress from formal to breezy and fun. With the addition of a simple silver ankle bracelet, you reached up to remove the band holding your hair together. Although still slightly damp, running your fingers through the heaviness, you were able to seperate the layers into beautiful waves that nearly reached your waist. With a quick dab of lavender oil between your breasts, along your wrists and behind each ear you were ready.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader confronts Misha about his strange behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst
> 
> Also. Guys. I figured out how to color my dialogue over on Tumblr. If you want to read this story in color, visit my blog here: https://wilde-abandon.tumblr.com/masterlist

****

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

 

Tucking your phone, room key, ID and credit card into a small shoulder clutch, you straightened your back, took a steadying breath and opened the door. You really weren’t a purse..person, (Purse person…what a funny thing?) but the alternative was sticking everything you needed in your bra, and something about that made you laugh. Pulling your phone from the tiny contraption, you sent Norman a text to ask where he wanted to meet. As you waited for the elevator to take you downstairs, you sent Misha a text as well, letting him know you were on your way if he needed you for anything. A few moments later, Norman texted you back saying he was running a bit behind, but that he’d be down shortly. Thankfully, this ride to the ground floor was without incident and soon you felt the warm evening air greeting you as you stepped out onto the Great Lawn.

As the convention attendees weren’t due to start arriving for another thirty minutes, the grounds were fairly quiet. Rob and the band were readying a sound-check on the makeshift stage the hotel had set-up along the oceanfront. Catching his eye, you waved before making your way over to him.

“Hey, hey good lookin’!” Pulling you into a tight hug, Rob stepped back from the embrace as Mike sauntered over to say hello. “Can you believe we’re here Robbie?” “Twenty years in the making eh?”With a clap on the back, he moved to fuss over the amps. Turning towards the sea of empty tables in front of them, a sigh of contentment marked Rob’s happiness. “Have you seen Misha anywhere?” Scanning the vicinity for your boss, you weren’t terribly surprised when you didn’t see him. “He’s technically a surprise, so if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say check the pavillion.” Shrugging, Rob pointed to the row of canvas tents to the left of the stage. Apparently this convention was a big deal. You’d heard whispers through the fandom, speculating on whether Jensen would be performing tonight. Having never heard the man sing, you were looking forward to the possibility.

With another quick hug, you waved goodbye to Rob before jumping from the stage to land in the soft green grass bordering the set. People were beginning to trickle in now. Groups of two and three at a time turned into a steady stream as the sun started its descent behind the drum kits. Noticing Mark leaning against one of the large white tables with an iced tea in hand you wandered over to say hello. You’d never officially met him, and he’d been one of your favorite characters on Supernatural. Slowly you were catching up on all of the other shows in which he’d made an appearance. “Hey, Mark it’s good to meet you.” Pulling his gaze from the phone he held in one hand, the older man regarded you silently for a moment. Squinting as he hesitantly extended his, you hurried to introduce yourself.

“Ah yes, you must be the infamous Ms. Wilde.” “That is a beautiful dress darling, I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious in my choices.”With a smirk and a low chuckle he withdrew his hand. “Please tell me you’re playing tonight Mark. I’ve been dying to see you on drums in person.” Even though he had left the show the year prior, he still toured with the conventions and you’d seen videos of him participating in the concert on Saturday nights. “ ‘Fraid not love, I havn’ played since I lef’ Supernatural. In fact, this is also my last year on the circuit.” As your face fell, you did your best to hide your disappointment. “Don’t worry darling, I’ll still be around, just not with Creation after next month. Be sure and say hello if you see me elsewhere though.” Glancing down at his phone, he looked back up at you, squeezed your shoulder and excused himself before wandering away through the maze of tables.

Suddenly you heard the melodic sound of Misha’s laughter. Looking up, you scanned the crowd and noticed him across the lawn taking a picture with a fan who’d literally walked straight into him while staring into his phone. Smiling, you moved to join him. Despite the terrible way he’d handled himself, you couldn’t seem to stay upset when you were near him. Maybe you were moving on from the un-necessary petulance you’d felt, or maybe it was just Misha’s personality. Rather than his name however, a sharp intake of breath came from your mouth when you felt warm arms wrap around your waist from behind. “Heya Sunshine..”  Whispered words curled around your ear, chasing a shiver down your spine. Spinning you in his arms, your breath caught briefly as Norman stared down at you. “Ya look amazin’…jes beautiful.” Flushing at the unexpected compliment, your eyes darted to the ground. “You don’t look so bad yourself Mr. Reedus.” With a half smile you stepped back to admire the man standing before you. His dark auburn hair fell in messy waves over his blue eyes, as it always did. Although he still wore jeans he’d switched to a dark distressed pair, the legs haphazardly pulled down over tightly laced boots. In lieu of the Henley from earlier, a black band tee took its place. The soft cotton fabric stretching over his broad chest and thick arms caught your attention as he pulled you into his neck for a hug and tightened his grip. Inhaling deeply, you sighed as the smell of worn leather and fresh-turned dirt surrounded you.

****************************************

“I promise, I’m fine. It was great to meet you too!” Pulling his hand from the man’s shoulder, Misha lowered the dark glasses from where they rested in his messy hair to cover his eyes as he threaded his way through the crowds in search of you.

He’d noticed you talking to Rob earlier and headed in that direction, his stride confident and filled with purpose. Scanning the crowd at the front of the stage he intently sought the black and blue dress you’d been wearing. When his gaze shifted and found you standing off to the side of the lawn he smiled, intent on telling you how gorgeous you looked. His steps faltered and the smile he’d been wearing moments before dimmed as Norman walked up and wrapped his arms around your waist. [Y/F/N] laughed at something he said, turning in his arms to brush hair from his face. Even though he had no valid reason to be upset, his stomach twisted into knots, a dull ache blossoming in his chest.

One thing was certain, Norman certainly seemed authentic in his efforts. Misha smiled sardonically as the other man pressed his lips to [Y/F/N]’s temple, tucking a white flower into her hair before settling an arm casually around her waist and pulling her into his side.

**********************

When the lights dimmed and Rob took his place center stage the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and screaming. A permanent grin settled into place immediately. You thoroughly enjoyed seeing everyone support Louden Swain. Although you’d only discovered the band a few months prior, it hadn’t taken long for you to become a fan. Raising your arms over your head, you clapped and cheered as loud as the rest of the audience, hips and the gauzy fabric draping them beginning to sway to the Indie Rock.

Shifting from his place at your side, Norman moved to settle his arms across the front of your hips, pulling you in against his solid frame. When his lips pressed themselves into your hairline you stilled, the lilting sounds of the band drowned out by your suddenly racing heart. As simple of a gesture as it was, the lingering feeling ceased to fade, even after he had pulled back.

“You’re really taking being my date seriously eh?” Twisting your head to look up at the man behind you, a playful smirk ghosted over your face. “O’ course, why wouldn’t I?” Shrugging, you turned back to the stage where Rob had started singing one of your favorite Louden Swain songs; Pop-Tart Heart. “If’n ah didn’t enjoy spenin’ time witcha, ah wouldn’t. I don’t do pity dates [Y/F/N].”

“Well, as much as I’m enjoying myself, I should probably go check in with Misha. Work beckons ya know?” Squeezing his arms around you once more, Norman nodded before stepping back. “I’ll be here when ya get back. These guys are pretty good.”

Winding your way through the group of people who’d drifted their way to the front of the stage, you spotted Clif hanging back by the group of tents set aside for the guests. “Hey Clif!” Waving to the surly looking man, he nodded in your direction as you approached. “Is Misha in there?” Craning your neck around his massive shoulders, he laughed at your attempts to see passed him. “Yeah, go on in [Y/F/N].” Holding the curtain aside for you, Clif stepped away from the small door. Immediately you were greeted by a wall of hired muscle, perma-frowns etched into their tanned features. Black suits, and tinted wrap-around sunglasses glared back at you as their arms crossed over their chests. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m [Y/F/N].” The men didn’t even look at you, their gaze trained straight ahead. “Uh..alrighty then. Hey, Misha?!” “Yah?” Smiling as he poked his head through the men, his attention landed on you, expression turning to stone. “[Y/F/N], hey c’mon in.”

Turning from you he gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, carelessly discarding it on an empty chair across the room. “Thought I’d check in to see if I could help with anything. Haven’t heard from you today really.” The earlier sheepishness had returned, and you looked anywhere but at the man in front of you, his perfectly tanned skin framed by low-hanging denim.

The tension in the space between you was thick enough that when Jared sauntered over to say hello; tossing an almond up in the air before snapping it into his mouth, he nearly choked. “Woah, [Y/F/N], you look amazing! Doesn’t that dress…wow?!” Nudging Misha, (who was too busy pulling on his button up shirt to even bother making fun of the taller man for nearly choking on nuts) he threw an arm around his shoulders, intent on asking if he too thought you looked great. “Oh, uhm..yeah. S’nice.” At Jared’s questioning expression, you sighed, shaking your head by way of explanation. “Y'all okay?” “Yeah, I think so, we just gotta sort some things out.”Turning your own now icy stare towards your boss, you looked pointedly at the man, while still addressing Jared. “Just got some…kinks..to work out.” “Still gettin’ used to each other is all.”

With a worried grimace, the taller man held his hands out in front of his body, as if to keep himself out of the conversation. “Alright, well I’m.. just gonna…I’ll see y'all later.” Leaning over to whisper through your hair, Jared placed a large hand on your back, “don’t be too hard on him eh? I know y'all just met, but he cares for you.” With that, he strolled off across the room, hailing Jensen as his brother was ushered in the back door.

Tentatively, you reached out to touch Misha’s back, which was still turned away from you, his head held in one hand, the other resting on his hip. “Mish?” “Can we talk?” With a heavy sigh, the man shook his head, running a hand over his face before raking his fingers through his hair. “Sure [Y/F/N], what do you want to talk about?” Turning to face you, his expression hard, you were taken aback by his attitude. “Really? Well, how about for starters why you mysteriously disappeared this morning after -” leaning closer so as to be out of ear shot of the others gathered in the room “-after what..happened.” “I’m assuming it directly relates to why you’ve ignored me all day? Also, what’s up with your sudden possessiveness over me?” “And third, whatever this -” waffling your hands between the two of you, you continued “-is, I need to know we’re on the same page. You’re fucking married Misha, and after you just up and left? I felt like a cheap…cheap…FLOOZY!”Turning from your boss as you tried to hide the angry tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, you bowed your head, intent on keeping your shit together. “[Y/F/N]…I …I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for awhile now.” Gripping your shoulder, he turned you to face him, eyes widening when he saw you fighting with your emotions. “Hey..hey don’t be upset, c’mere I-” the man tried pulling you against his body to comfort you but you didn’t want comforting, you wanted to punch him in the face. Fortunately you only thought the sentiment and didn’t act on it. One, he was your boss and despite everything you wanted to keep your job. Two, he was about to go put on a show for a couple thousand fans, and you’d feel kinda shitty if you wrecked his pretty nose. And three, Jared had requested you go easy on the man. So, you let him wrap his arms around you and crush you to his chest.

Sighing to yourself, you gently pulled back from his embrace. “Misha, talk to me. We have to talk about what my role is in this relationship. For having just met me, there’s no rational reason for you to apparently like me as more than an employee, so there’s clearly some sub-section of the contract I overlooked that details this. You’re married, and two weeks ago I was just another fangirl trying to get you to notice me. Now my life is completely different and I just don’t know what to do or how to act.” The anger began to dissipate while you listened to the rhythmic thudding of Misha’s chest.

Flopping into the same chair that held his abandoned t-shirt, Misha tugged on your wrist, so when you toppled off balance you only just caught yourself in time to instead take a seat on the adjacent chair.

Steepling his fingers as he hunched forward in his own seat, Misha considered his thoughts only briefly before starting. “Okay. So. I’ve got approximately -eight- minutes until they call me out on stage to introduce Jensen and Jared, so as much as I want to discuss this at length, I’m afraid it’s not possible right this second.  There are two options: one, we can touch on each of your concerns and revisit them later tonight, or two, you can go enjoy the rest of the show and we’ll put the entire conversation on hold. Again.” “I can say now, tomorrow is the craziest day, Sundays are always insane at conventions. There is a very real possibility that we won’t have another opportunity to discuss this until we’re on the way back to Washington.” Misha’s cobalt eyes searched your Green ones, trying to read your mood to see what you wanted to do.

Nodding in understanding you almost decided to put it off again. It was too important of a conversation to keep pushing aside but he was right, it was going to take time to address all of the questions you had. As much as you knew you’d dwell on his answers, it was also quite likely that knowing nothing would be worse. So you opted for the first choice. “Just..just give me something to think on. Will that work?” You’d completely forgotten about the concert happening just outside the thin canvas walls, not that you were sure how, the noise of the crowd was deafening as Rob finished the vocals to ‘She Waits.’

“Okay… so you want a quickie?” The smirk on Misha’s face to match his wink let you know he too, was less upset than he had been. Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced. “Yeah, yeah, on with it Sparky. Your public awaits.” As if on cue, Clif pulled back the canvas of the door, eyes searching the room. “Kim, Misha, you guys are on deck.”

Nodding, Misha walked with you towards his waiting bodyguard and friend. “One: “Personal Assistant covers a lot more than business transactions. Remember when I told you being my assistant meant I’d have to be able to trust you with parts of my life not many are privy to? Well I wasn’t only talking about my credit score and social security number. Two: Yes, I’ve been quiet today because I couldn’t figure out how to explain my poor decision via text and I was afraid you were angry with me, so I wanted to give you some space.”

Rob’s voice grew louder, Rich joining in with a ridiculous joke about someone taking the JCPenney coat sale waaayyy too seriously..and then they were announcing him. “Ladies and gents, your favorite angel…Mr. Misha Collins!!” The pitch of the crowd increased substantially as Misha turned to face you, one hand weaving through your hair. Locking his eyes on yours, he continued. “Three: Yes, I am married. Happily, I might add. But Vicki and I have already spoken about this, so it’s up to you to decide what you want from this relationship. Also. I was jealous. Yes, its unrealistic and completely illogical for our situation, but there ya have it.” With a quick smile, he pulled you to him, his lips briefly pressing against yours before he leaned back.  Ducking under Clif’s arm, he shouted to the crowd about virtues, and how being patient just never worked for him either as he grabbed the temporary railing and jumped over it onto the stage. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman comforts reader after her talk with Misha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also. Guys. I figured out how to color my dialogue over on Tumblr. If you want to read this story in color, visit my blog here: https://wilde-abandon.tumblr.com/masterlist

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**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Distracted by the thoughts Misha had left you with, you wound your way back through the crowd, unsure how to proceed. Truth be told, you were still incredibly overwhelmed with the idea that you worked for Misha Collins. Now you were faced with the concept of more than that? Scanning the sea of people, your mood shifted. Instead of the happy, carefree spirit you’d started the night with, you abruptly found yourself with the intense desire to be somewhere quiet. With a last, lingering look at the mass of people with their attention trained steadfastly to the stage - you slipped away, skirting the expansive arena in favor of the company the ocean provided.

Realizing you’d left all of your belongings in the row of tents you’d just come from, you begrudgingly turned back. Luckily, you hadn’t been far and it took only a moment to locate the bag that had been kicked under the chair you’d just been sitting in. Fishing the phone from inside, you slung the strap over your shoulder while keying in the pattern so you could check for any notifications. Remembering suddenly that you’d left Norman waiting for you in the crowd, you cringed. There was no way you wanted to go searching for him. Instead you navigated through your list of contacts and was in the midst of sending him a text when he stepped in front of you. [Y/F/N]? Ya okay?” “I saw ya leavin’ soon as Misha got on stage. Thought ya’d be comin’ back ta tha party.” The concern on his face seemed genuine, but similarly a voice in your head remained skeptical.“Sumpthin’ happ’n?” “Just…ahhh…a little overwhelmed, that’s all.” A half-smile forced itself over your face - but Norman immediately saw through the facade. “C’mon, walk wi’ me.”Grasping your hand in his larger one, the warmth of it spread up your arm and you nodded; the two of you leaving behind the din of the concert.

When the lights and noise had faded into the background and the only sound to be heard was the waves as they crashed over the beach, you slowed to a stop. Inhaling deeply, your senses were flooded with the scent of the ocean and the fragrant tropical flowers that dripped from a nearby canopy. Far-away thoughts came rushing back to the present when Norman collapsed backwards to the sand. Unlike with Misha, you hadn’t realized what was coming, and you were quickly pulled off balance by the larger man. Landing with a heavy thud on top of him, a squeal of surprise left your mouth at the sudden movement. Reacting with barely a grunt, Norman instead smiled up at you mischievously. Groaning, you moved to roll off his chest and sit in the sand next to him but instead found yourself steadfastly locked in the grip of his muscled arms, a pleased rumble emerging from his chest. Resting your chin in one hand, you leaned into his embrace, “this isn’t walking, Mr. Reedus.” “Nah, but it distracted ya well a’nuff di’nit?” Considering for only a moment, you shrugged. “Hmmm. Touche.” Darting forward, you pressed your lips to his cheek, but in your attempt to back away found his hold on you had tightened. Mere inches from his face, you held your breath, willing your erratic pulse into submission. Trouble was, in this intimate of a position there was no hiding it, so you quickly gave up trying.

The barest hint of a smile crossed his face before Norman leaned up and kissed your nose, rubbing a broad hand across your back before letting you up. Once seated next to him with the dark swirling water in front of you and the last vestiges of the concert fading into nothingness downwind, you leaned into Norman’s side. Leaning your head against his, you explained to your friend what Misha had said.

“Ah kin see why ya so bothered [Y/F/N], kinda a big change all at once eh?” Shifting, Norman pulled you across his lap so his legs framed your body, moving you back against his chest. Absentmindedly his fingers played with yours while his chin rested on your shoulder. Far from being nervous, you found the contact comforting and leaned into his touch.

“Thank you.” The words were barely perceptible, muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anything. “Fer what?” “This. For being here with me right now.” “S’no where else ah’d rather be [Y/F/N].” A sharp bark of laughter fell from your lips as you shook your head. “Liar. You’re sweet, but you’re a liar.” Turning, the laughter in your voice quieted when your gaze met his.

For the space of a few heartbeats you were absolutely still, the intensity in his eyes holding your attention. Briefly your gaze drifted to his lips, though he must have noticed because a bemused smile tugged at one corner of his face. Flushing, you turned your focus back to the ocean, staring intently into the darkness for a moment before pushing yourself to your feet, dusting piles of sand from the folded fabric of your dress. Norman remained seated, looking up at you through the wild hair falling across his eyes. Holding a hand out you beckoned him to join you as you ran towards the surf, colliding with the intermittent waves as they swirled around your bare feet. Sucking in a sharp breath as the cold water met your skin, you squealed, lifting the hem of your dress in each hand while you played in the water. Spinning around a few times, you quickly forgot about trying to preserve your clothes; extending your arms to each side, your long [Y/H/C] waves flowing out behind you. The billowing chiffon drifted lazily in the water around you as you slowed to a stop, your chest heaving from the exertion as you shoved your hands through now tangled hair. A wide smile lit your face when you saw Norman standing at the edge of the water with his hands shoved in his pockets, watching you with quiet interest.

Laughing, you ran towards him, your mirth quickly changing to panic as one foot tangled in a long piece of fabric and you fell forwards. Screwing your eyes shut and flinging your arms out, you prepared for the cold rush of water quickly rising up to meet your clumsy body…but it never came. Hesitantly you opened one eye, your face mere inches from the water that lapped softly along the shore. The hand clasped around one of your wrists slowly pulled back, raising the rest of your body back into a standing position, Norman’s laughter echoed around you. “C’mon Graceful, let’s head back a’fore ya break ya’self.” Turning his back to you he reached down and wrapped his massive hands under the backs of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up onto his back, a few of the longer tendrils of fabric still swaying through the water as he redistributed your weight more evenly, setting off towards the lights of the hotel. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Norman have dinner and plans to watch a movie...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: SMUT. Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Itty bit o' fluff
> 
> TUMBLR BLOG MASTERLIST: https://wilde-abandon.tumblr.com/masterlist

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**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 

After a few minutes of relative companionable silence, you opted for easy conversation. “So, Mr. Reedus, what’s your favorite movie?” Resting your cheek against his back, you wrapped your arms across the front of his chest while your legs dangled lazily under the support of his arms. Grunting, he shrugged his massive shoulders, “I dunno, I like lotsa movies. Wha’s yer favorite?” You should have expected the question to be thrown back at you, but it didn’t mean you had an answer in mind. “It really depends on my mood, but I like a bunch too, mostly fantasy and fandom adaptations. My sister has been trying to get me to watch something called ‘Boondock Saints’ - apparently it’s one of her favorites. Says there’s this really cute pair of brothers in it.” Norman laughed then, shaking his head. “Ya gonna tell me ya nev’r watched ‘Saints? Well guess what yer doin’ tonight?” Making his way along the sidewalk stretching the perimeter of the grass where the concert had taken place, he hummed contentedly, one thumb idly rubbing soft circles into the cool flesh of your thigh. Back in the glow of the light posts situated along the grounds, Norman noticed the tattoo decorating your leg for the first time. “This is nice, how many ya got?” “A few, hah.” “Two others so far, but I’m working on getting my forearms done too. It’s been awhile, startin’ to get the itch for new ink actually.”

Moving into the shadows of the elevator, Norman’s grip tightened around one thigh as he leaned against the wall to help support you while reaching out to enter his floor number into the keypad. Laughing, you unwrapped one arm from across his chest, reaching out in an attempt to key in your floor as well, but Norman ducked in front of you, spinning your reaching arms away from the doors as the lift started its ascent. “Wha’d I say lady?” “We gonna watch a movie and ain’t nuttin’ ya can do about it.” “Ya know, I’m perfectly capable of walking..and I figured I’d change first…didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me with how…ah..wet I am.” Norman stiffened briefly, but let you slide from his body as the elevator settled to a stop. “Mm’sure ah got sumthin’ ya kin put on ..if ya want.” His eyes were trained to the floor, hair falling around his face as he hid from your regard.

Crossing the threshold where the industrial beige carpet of the hall ended and the plush white carpet of Norman’s room began, you hesitated just inside the door. Unsure where to stand or what to do, you waited for further instruction. Norman immediately strode over to the dresser and began rummaging through the second drawer. Pulling a shirt from the sea of black and grey offerings, he tossed it to you before sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his boots off. When he took a moment to reach backwards for the remote that rested on one of the nightstands flanking his king-sized bed your mouth dropped open, greedily ogling the muscles of his body flexing with the effort. To distract yourself you untied the straps of your dress from the knot holding the fabric together. Turning towards the window you let the material slide over your hips to pool on the floor around you, quickly pulling the t-shirt over your head. “Fuck [Y/F/N]…guess ya not modest eh?” Spinning to face him again as the shirt fell past the curve of your breasts, you grinned, narrowing your eyes you stalked toward the foot of the bed, purposefully putting a little extra swivel in the movement of your hips. Bending forward, you rested your weight against his thighs, [Y/E/C] irises challenging his hooded blue ones as you shook your head slowly. Righting yourself, you turned and walked back to where the room phone was located. Flipping through the binder of services that had been neatly stacked next to it, you lifted the receiver, holding it to your ear with one shoulder while offering the pages of the room service menu out to Norman. After placing your order, you thanked the kitchen staff before returning the phone to its cradle. Norman’s eyes never left the sway of your hips as you crawled onto the bed next to him, the mattress dipping under your weight.

Pursing your lips, you scrutinized the man sitting next to you. His posture was rigid as he fought to keep his heart rate under control. “Something the matter Mr. Reedus?” Purring against his ear, you wriggle your hips, teasing the poor man beside to you before flopping down next to him on your stomach. Raising your legs up behind you, idly kicking in the air, you leaned into Norman’s side, turning your face to peer up at him through his curtain of hair. Plucking at his shirt, you raised an eyebrow in question. “You’re wearing far too many clothes for properly watching a movie. It’s scientifically proven that no one can get comfortable while wearing jeans.” Rolling off the side of the bed at the sound of a rap on the door, you laughed at Norman’s facial expression before bounding towards the noise. He wasn’t sure what had changed between the two of you, but at some point today Norman had realized just how much he wanted to spend time in your company. He thought your personality was endearing, and while he’d always found himself surrounded by beautiful women, there was something different about you. Laughing as the poor delivery man tried to hide his discomfort with [Y/F/N] answering the door half clothed, he slid to the edge of the bed. Reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt, he swiftly pulled it up and over his head, dropping it in a discarded heap before rising and walking over to peruse the offerings. After thanking the young man who’d flushed several progressively darkening colors of red at your appearance, you quietly shut the door.

Turning with the heavy silver chargers in hand you set them on the nearby table. Lifting the cloche covering each dish, you mumbled under your breath as your hunger expressed its displeasure at being kept waiting. Spearing a chunk of golden pineapple from your plate, you brought the fork to your mouth and chewed the fruit methodically. Forgetting, albeit briefly, that you weren’t alone you closed your eyes in pure bliss - pineapple was one of your weaknesses. Raising your hands up in front of you, a little dance shook through your body as you savored the fruit. “Dude, Norman you’ve gotta try this shit, it’s sooooo gooood!” Turning, you nearly dropped your fork as your friend stalked towards you, his eyes darkening subtly, the varied colors of blue swirling through each other. He fought with himself about something, his expression flickering between doubt and surety. You didn’t know what it was, but it was very clear that there was a war playing itself out in his mind. As your eyes roamed over his bare upper body, you began noticing the smattering of tattoos spread across his skin. While his were far smaller than the few you had, they also were greater in number. Norman remained stoic as you regarded his chest, wondering if the name scrawled there was narcissism or not. “Ma dad’s name was Norman too.” His simple explanation had you nodding your head in understanding as you began circling the man, surveying the stories and memories he’d chosen to create a permanent reminder of. One by one your fingers traced over the words and images, pausing near ones you thought especially interesting. Upon making a full circle, you found yourself stopped in front of him. Squinting, you leaned forward, examining the tiny “x” set into the skin above his collarbone. “What’s this one?” Dragging your fingers over the mark, you looked up at Norman. Noticing the small smirk on his face as he dipped his head, you smiled when his chestnut hair again fell across his eyes. You were considering his penchant for the behavior before your attention shot back to his at the words he said next, the tone soft accompanied by a bashful shrug of his shoulders “X marks mah spot, swee’har…” Quirking a brow in disbelief, you nevertheless made a mental note of the information before turning back to your food. “You make my life too easy man.”

A quiet snort of amusement his only response, Norman stepped up beside you, grabbing his own plate of food before retreating back to the bed. Twenty minutes later both plates were stacked precariously on the side table. Leaning over the plush mattress, you fished your phone out from the bottom of your bag. There was one text from Misha. “Hey [Y/F/N], by not answering your door I’m going to assume you’re having a fun night out. Be safe, have a great night and call me if you need anything <3” Smiling to yourself you were surprised by the feeling of validation that coursed through you. You’d never been one to directly seek out or ask for permission to do things or spend time with people during your days off, but you’d have been lying if you’d tried to convince yourself you hadn’t felt relief when the invisible apprehension weighing you down dissipated. Tossing the device onto the nightstand you turned your attention to Norman, who sat watching you from one side of the bed, unasked questions flickering in his eyes. “So, what’s this movie about?” Unfolding your legs from where they sat beneath your body, you yanked back the crisp white sheets. Tossing the duvet to the foot of the bed you took a moment to slide between the cool layers of fabric, immediately moving to align your body with Norman. Cuddling, whether platonically or not was one of your favorite things in the world; you’d always found physical contact comforting. Much as had happened on the beach he framed your body between his legs, his hands moving to thread his fingers into yours. When the screen remained dark you turned to face Norman, intent on asking him why he had yet to start the movie. Instead, when your eyes met his you finally understood the emotion you’d noticed him struggling with earlier; restraint.

Mentally sifting through the last few days you began to string together all of the long looks and quiet observations. The flirty texts and how he always seemed to want to be around you. Fear and confusion blossomed in your chest while your mind filled itself with doubt, your inner monologue chastising the flutter of hope that dared show itself. “Don’t look too much into it, remember what happened just the other night with your boss!?” “He’s constantly surrounded by models and actresses, what interest would he have in a random girl from the suburbs?” Steeling yourself for the inevitable, you shrugged off the encroaching negativity and decided to enjoy yourself. Whatever happened later could be handled later. Re-focusing on his face, you noted with interest the way Norman’s eyes bled from their normal sky blue to the steely grey/blue of the atmosphere before a wild storm. The look he fixed you with made your body tense as lascivious tendencies invaded your senses. Movie all but forgotten, you turned the rest of your body to face his, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Bracing your palms against his thighs, your Green irises never broke contact from Norman’s rapidly changing expression. With a brief spike in confidence, you leaned towards him, softly pressing your lips to his. He remained perfectly still. His uncertainty made you question your actions, but only briefly. Leaning in again you kissed him once more, lingering a moment longer before pulling away. When you turned your eyes up to look at him, you noted that he’d closed his eyes, the fine tremble from moments ago was now noticeable, the corded muscles of his arms straining with self-control. Raising yourself to all fours, you crawled forward a few inches ghosting your lips over the planes of his jaw, your erratic pulse feeding your body with adrenaline. Finally, when you’d made your way from his neck down to the hollow beyond the swell of his shoulders, you paused a moment before brushing your lips over the tattoo just above his collarbone. Setting your teeth into the soft skin elicited a throaty growl of warning from Norman “[Y/F/N]…”

Flicking your tongue across the tiny “x” in a teasing display of intent, you quickly found yourself flipped on your back, the larger man pressing his weight into your body, his hands wrapping around your wrists, fingers roughly digging into your skin. The thunderous rumble in his chest matched the darkness that had completely enveloped his normally bright eyes. Nudging one denim-wrapped knee against your tightly clutched legs, Norman situated himself between your spread thighs, pressing his hips into yours as his mouth sealed itself along the side of your throat. Tilting your head as his teeth bit into your skin, an involuntary gasp fell from your mouth and you struggled against his hold on you while your thighs locked around his hips. The thin cotton panties you wore provided little in the way of protection against the rough denim covering Norman’s growing erection as he rutted against you. The sensation had you groaning in frustration. You wanted the man hovering over you to rip into the fabric and fuck you senseless, but at the same time part of you was enjoying the tortuously slow way he ghosted his hands along the sides of your body, dipping beneath the hem of the oversized cotton t-shirt he had loaned you. “Fuuuuhuuuck mmmmee…” Your eyes drifted shut, a gasp falling from your lips as his broad hand continued up the side of your body to rest against the base of your throat, the slight pressure he exuded causing stars to blossom behind your closed eyelids. “Patience swee’har..we’ll get there.” The fingers that still encircled your left wrist eased their hold in favor of dancing across the skin of your stomach. The light touch was a direct contradiction to the grip he still had on your neck and the two very different sensations had you writhing against his weight. Wrists now free, you wrapped your hands around Norman’s broad back, the larger muscle groups flexing under his efforts occupied your attention. Wriggling into a sitting position you flipped your legs under you, eagerly reaching for the brass button of his dark jeans, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of what he’d feel like with your tongue on him.

The eagerness with which [Y/F/N] dove for his restrained cock made Norman’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and the lip she tugged between her teeth while making quick work of his jeans had his eyes on hers, his chest heaving in anticipation. Not that she noticed, her attention was trained on the task before her. One hand disappeared inside the now opened button and zipper of his jeans, lithe fingers closing around his hard length. Norman shuddered at the look of reverence that lit [Y/F/N]’s features with delight when she pulled him from the confines of his clothing. The warm silk of Norman’s cock in your hand dressed with the beaded slick of pre-cum marking his anticipation made your thighs wet with desire. Darting your tongue out to slide across the underside of his head made Norman’s breath catch and a groan fall from his lips while he watched you close your mouth over him. Wrapping both hands around his thighs, you trailed the pads of your fingers up his skin to clutch desperately at the curve of his ass. Threading his hands into your [Y/H/C] hair, Norman’s fingers tightened immediately, the sharp tug of his fist causing you to cry out around his methodic thrusts as his hips settled into a steady rhythm. For a brief moment Norman faltered at the sound coming from your mouth, but when he glanced down at your expression of bliss, and how your intense charcoal rimmed Green irises turned up towards him with their challenging gleam, he quickly realized the noises had been ones of pleasure. Panting heavily as the woman kneeling in front of him lavished his shuddering cock with attention, Norman’s thrusts stuttered momentarily as he tried to control his pace. The strength in his body coupled with his desire warranted the brutal rhythm he so wanted to fall into. And yet, he held back, not entirely convinced [Y/F/N] would enjoy that amount of rough handling. As he worked to maintain control, strings of expletives filtered through his clenched jaw “Fuck! Yes! Damnit, [Y/F/N]!” Humming your pleasure at Norman’s reaction, you braced steady hands against the outer edge of his hips, your nails leaving half-moon circles in the light skin while your own hips swayed lazily to each side. Dribbles of saliva foamed at the corners of your lips as you concentrated on sliding your tongue over his length, pressing his body as close to your mouth as you could handle. Unintelligible mutterings continued to fall from Norman’s mouth, his eyes wide with lust as he watched the woman’s body language change from eager to insatiable. Throwing his head back, a guttural roar ripped from his throat when [Y/F/N] lightly grazed his already twitching cock with her teeth. The new sensation might have been alarming had he seen it coming. It was such an unexpected but oddly hot move that he was almost glad for the surprise.

Pulling himself from between her lips, he had to contain a brief huff of laughter as [Y/F/N] stared up at him, a whine of confused disappointment falling from her swollen lips as her vision slid back into focus and she tried to swallow him down once more. “Fuck woman!” Norman’s right hand whipped out, circling [Y/F/N]’s upper arm in a bruising grip, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to not spin her around onto all fours and shove her face into the rumpled sheets surrounding them. Your breath caught in your throat at his aggressive hold on you, the storm flashing in his lust-blown eyes sending a shiver of fear through your body. Chasing that terror however, was a surprising wave of pleasure. When Norman released his grip on your arm and placed one massive hand against the center of your heaving chest - shoving you backwards to land on the pile of overstuffed pillows, you groaned in ecstasy as your gaze shifted between his impressive cock and the look in his eyes. Wrapping both hands around your waist, Norman roughly pulled you towards him, his fingers digging into your flesh in nearly the same manner Misha had just two nights prior. The momentum of your body sliding over the sheets pulled the shirt draped across your torso up enough that the curve of your breasts could be seen just beneath the fabric. The sudden chill of air rushing to your fevered skin made your nipples constrict, the sensitive points now noticeable as they rubbed against the cotton brushing over them. Arching your back up off the mattress at the feeling, Norman’s eyes flicked to the exposed skin briefly, a groan passing through his body as he reached up to remove the offending fabric. Left only in the lace trimmed panties you’d started the night with, you found yourself scrambling to remove them. For the second time tonight, Norman intercepted your impatient tendencies. Gripping both of your wrists in one large hand, he raised them above your head, pinning them into the firm mattress. “Stop bein’ so impatient girl.” The reprimand was followed by the sound of his free hand making contact with the swell of your ass. The sting of the action drew you from the frenzied state you’d been in. As a complaint formed in your mind, Norman lowered his mouth to gingerly bite the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The cry that tumbled from your lips ended in a plaintive whine when he flattened his tongue and drug it across the soft fabric, his dark eyes never leaving yours. Releasing your wrists, Norman ghosted his hands down your body, fingers hooking beneath the edge of your panties, slowly peeling them down over your thighs before dropping them off the foot of the bed. Eyes roving appreciatively over the length of your body, Norman covered your skin with his own - as if he were afraid someone might try to steal his prize. Shifting your hips a bit lined you up perfectly with him and you could feel his solid length pressed against your abdomen while his lips lazily danced up your stomach. Momentarily resting his chin in the space between your breasts, a smirk lifted one side of his mouth into a smile before he latched onto the soft skin surrounding your right nipple. Eyes wild, your pelvis bucked up almost involuntarily from the surprise of his bite. Lowering his forehead to your sternum, a heavy breath fell from Norman’s lips before he raised himself back into a sitting position. Dragging your hips up onto his lap forced your thighs to spread wider to accommodate his frame. Gripping the base of his twitching cock in one hand he guided it amongst the folds at the apex of your thighs, a heavy groan falling from his lips as the slick warmth of your body provided the momentum he’d been looking for. Sliding his grip up a few inches, he put pressure on your swollen clit with just the underside of his head. Working to control the movement of his hips, his jaw clenched in concentration. Twisting your fingers in the tangled sheets beneath you, you closed your eyes - mouth opening in a soft gasp of surprise as Norman continued dragging his length over you. Your eyes screwed shut as you worried at the corner of your bottom lip, concentrating only on your heavy breathing; the sounds of his cock sliding through your folds created a heady mixture of stimulation. You opened one eye just as he was starting another pass, and nearly came undone from the sight alone.

Norman had noted the change in [Y/F/N]’s body, as subtle as it had been. In lieu of her energetic thrashing from earlier, she’d become nearly still - a slight vibration shaking through her legs as white knuckles grasped at the cool sheets. Her chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, and she’d once again closed her eyes, one lip caught between her teeth. Smirking, he leaned over her body, the heavy drawl of his southern accent adding to the intensity of her pleasure. “Thas’ it baby, ya take tha’ cock..” The growl of his words together with the increased pressure he’d put on you with his weight sent you tumbling over the edge of a cliff no one had ever approached. Endorphins flooded your brain as the orgasm ripped through your shaking frame, but there was little time to revel in the experience as Norman lined himself up and pushed into your body, a throaty growl emanating from his chest. “Fuckin’ Hell Sunshine…” Sliding a broad hand along one still quaking thigh, Norman lifted it up to wrap around his hip as he settled between your legs, pushing against the contracting muscles of your core until he was fully seated inside you. “Fuuuuuhh-hnnng…” The sigh of contentment fell from your lips as the last waves of pleasure ebbed from your body.

Wrapping your arms around Norman’s broad shoulders pressed your chest against his, sticky tendrils of his mahogany hair sliding across your skin as he lowered his mouth to yours. Heated gasps of satisfaction passed between your bodies momentarily until Norman’s thrusts intensified, and you cried out, raking your nails down his back even as you pulled him closer. Assaulting his neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses, you marked a path up to one ear, your warm breath fanning across his fevered skin; “don’t stop baby, fuck me like you mean it.” Norman stared at the woman beneath him incredulously, but wasted no time in pulling back and flipping her to her stomach, one hand tangling in fistfuls of her long hair - ripping a ragged scream from her throat when he pulled her to all fours. “FUCK!” Collapsing to the ruined mess of bedding beneath her, [Y/F/N] lazily swiveled her hips in his face. Digging his fingers into her soft skin, Norman lined himself up and sank into her body. Immediately settling into a punishing rhythm, he leaned over [Y/F/N], sliding broad hands across her back and along the sides of her body. Setting his teeth against her skin, he bit down, hard - growls pouring from his lips. “Ya like that baby? S’that wha’ ya want?” His growling voice sent a shiver running down your spine, a wave of goosebumps trailing in its wake. Breath heavy, you could only groan as your body stretched around his cock. Gritting your teeth, a steady stream of expletives continued to encourage his bruising pace as warmth began to build in your abdomen. “Fuckfuhhufuckfuckyeahhhsssss..gimmethatcockbaby…” grinding your hips backwards to meet his thrusts as he slammed into your body filled the air with the sounds of flesh colliding together, punctuated with grunts of satisfaction from the man behind you as well as your own soft keening. As the heat continued to build, Norman’s thrusts began to falter and you once again found his fist twisting through your tangled hair. “Ya gonna cum fer me, [Y/F/N]? C’mon, Sunshine, show me how much ya like me fuckin’ ya..”

The words were enough to make you come apart, screaming his name while your legs shook from the shock of the pleasure. “Fuckfuck..fuckyeeeessssssss….” “FUCK, NOOOORRRRRMAHHHHHNN!” As your body convulsed around his haphazard thrusting, your core tightened around his cock and a low growl fell from his lips, his erratic movements lasting only a half minute longer before he pushed your body away from his, roughly flipping you to your back as thick ropes of cum decorated your heaving chest. His own body shaking, Norman collapsed beside you, one arm thrown across his eyes as his heart began to slow. Next to him, in a similar state of exhaustion, your eyes drifted shut while your body recovered. You had trouble keeping your eyes open and you floated in and out of various states of relaxation for the next several minutes. Feeling the dip of the bed next to you, your eyes fluttered open when a warm towel ran across your chest, a throaty chuckle rumbling from the man standing over you. Tossing the rag in the general direction of the bathroom, Norman adjusted the sheets and pulled the duvet up over your trembling skin. Rolling to your stomach, sleep clouded your vision as Norman slid under the covers next to you, wrapping an arm across your body and pulling your back flush against his chest, his own breathing slowing as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets a surprise call and some peace of mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna read this fic in color? Visit my Tumblr Blog! https://wilde-abandon.tumblr.com/masterlist

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**CHAPTER TWENTY**

 

Shifting beneath the weight of the duvet, you cracked open one eyelid while snuggling into the comfort of your pillow. Sunlight streamed through the shaded windows across the room, shafts of light partially illuminating the bed. Tensing briefly in the unfamiliar surroundings, you took note of the person next to you. Norman was still deeply asleep, both arms thrust under his balled-up pillow. His bare back rose and fell in a steady rhythm, shaggy hair clinging to his forehead and falling across his eyes in a messy heap.

Pulling the sheet around your naked body, you turned in an attempt to quietly move from the bed. Judging by the position of the little sunlight that was visible, it was early. Settling both feet into the plush carpeting, you bent forward to stand up just as a strong arm curled around your waist. “Where ya think yer goin’?” Norman effortlessly hauled you back against his body, burying his face in the side of your neck. The warmth of his embrace and his slow, even, sleep-laced breathing had your own drowsiness returning.

“Some of us have to work today, Mr. Reedus.” “Go back to sleep.”Slipping from his side, you padded across the room and climbed back into your dress from the night before. Looking back over your shoulder at the sleeping man you’d spent the night with, you couldn’t help but smile. The wistful expression on your face was short lived as the reality of what had happened with Norman came rushing back to you.  _““Don’t go getting all googly-eyed [Y/F/N], it was a one time thing. Time to move on.”_  With a final glance in his direction, you slipped out the door, the soft click of the latch catching as it closed an obvious sort of finality.

Back in your room you turned immediately to the comfort of a hot shower. As you peeled off your clothing, soft clouded bruises met your eyes. Oblong purple-ish green ribbons decorated your hips while a few small maroon bites marked your breasts and collarbone. Running your hands across each of them jolted you with the memories of how they’d occurred, and you were still shocked at the things he’d done and the pleasure you’d experienced. For the first time in your life, you’d been utterly satisfied at the hands of another person, and a shiver raced through your bones at the memory.

After you were clean and dressed; choosing a pair of denim cut-offs and an Alice in Chains shirt - you headed downstairs to the green room. Intent on keeping your head in the game today, a whistle fell from your lips as you threaded your way through the crowds. Pulling the phone from your pocket, you texted Misha good morning with a picture of the beach to check in. “Hey Mish, I’m stopping off at the coffee shop across the street. Want anything?”

Today was your last day in Hawaii. You’d miss the beautiful weather and the picturesque beaches. It really had been a once in a lifetime experience. “Hey [Y/F/N]!” Turning, you smiled as Jared approached, one large hand held up in greeting. “Jared!” With as little as you’d spoken to the man you were surprised at how easily you’d been accepted as part of the family. “How did things go with Misha the other night? Did y’all get everything worked out okay?”Stepping away from the hug he’d wrapped you in, you nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Just needed to clear up some parts of our relationship.” The furrowing of Jared’s thick eyebrows had you laughing as he fell in step beside you. Unsure what all he knew of Misha and Vicki’s relationship agreement, you changed the subject. By the time you walked into the green room Jared had invited you to come to Texas for a visit. “It’ll be great, we’ll do some good southern barbecue, properly welcome you to the family.” He gave a final wave before turning with Jensen to head for their early morning gold panel.

Looking around the room, you were surprised when you didn’t see Misha. Grabbing the phone from your back pocket, you began to worry when there were no messages there either. “Hey Rob, have you seen Misha today?” Flopping down on the cream colored overstuffed sofa against the wall, you turned your attention to the man who sat running his fingers across the strings of an acoustic guitar. “Can’t say I have, sorry [Y/F/N]. I wouldn’t worry too much though. You know how Misha likes to wander off.” An easy smile lit his face. Closing his eyes, his body swayed and he began to sing. You’d enjoyed Rob’s voice since first hearing him sing in Supernatural and since Misha wasn’t answering his messages, you figured there was no better place to wait for your boss than here in the green room. You knew he had group photo ops today, he had to show up eventually.

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Removing the dark sunglasses covering his eyes, Norman scanned the crowd gathered in the small cafe. Leaning towards the hostess who stood wide-eyed at behind her podium just inside the door, he smiled “Hey, I’m waitin’ on someone, dunno if they’re here yeh or nah though?” Nodding a little too quickly, the small girl beckoned the taller man to follow her. “We were told to expect you Mr. Reedus, your party just arrived a few minutes ago.”

Winding his way through the clusters of square tables, Norman was led to the west side of the restaurant where an outdoor terrace overlooked the ocean. Thanking the woman who still looked flustered as she scurried away, Norman dropped into the wrought iron chair on the left side of the table. “Reedus, man, thanks for coming.” Extending a hand, Misha’s face lit up into a genuine smile.

“Sure man, what’s up?” The puzzled look crossing over Norman’s face seemed almost apprehensive.

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Pulling the folded paper schedule from your back pocket, your finger scanned over the color codes. You had to squint to read the small font, so much text was jammed into the schedule that it took a few minutes for you to recognize that the lavender words represented photo ops. It’d been nearly two hours and there gad still been no word from your boss. “Here we are…” the J2M photo ops were set to directly follow Jared and Jensen’s duo op. The boys had left for those about thirty minutes ago. Glancing up at the small black clock on the wall, you noticed there was about ten minutes until the start of the next session. Gathering your phone and drink, you tucked the schedule away in your pocket. Perusing the catering table for a moment, you decided on a bottle of water and bag of Gardettos. Opening the snack while pulling open the heavy wooden door, you tossed a few rye chips in your mouth as you set off down the hall.

A small outdoor bar spread out around the cluster of elevators that led to the photo op room. You could hear Chris’ music drifting down from the room upstairs and it instantly put a smile on your face. Stopping for a moment at the outdoor establishment, you ordered an iced green tea with honey for Misha. When you got to the top of the stairs, the line for the J2M photos wound around the hallway, everyone chatting animatedly about the poses they’d chosen or the number of pictures they’d purchased.

Slipping in the side door, Cliff smiled and showed you to a group of chairs out of the way of the lights and backdrop. The last few J2 ops were lined up, the boys laughing and smiling in each of the pictures. A few minutes later, while Chris reset the lighting, Jared and Jensen wandered over to chat for a minute.

As the con-goers began to filter into the room and line up for their photo ops, even Jensen began to look worried. “Where the Hell are you Misha?” “I’m sure he’s on his way, he’s still got…ha..about a minute..” Glancing up from his watch, Jared’s face wore a look of incredulity. Just as Chris was starting his music again, the door opened and Misha came flying in. His hair a disheveled mess, several muffled screams from the other side of the room let him know the little detail hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Heading straight for the director’s chair you sat in, Misha smiled, brushing his lips across your temple in greeting. Holding the cold beverage out in his direction, he nodded his thanks and took a few long drinks. “Alright fuckers, ya ready to get this show started?!”Beaming, he danced over to his mark in front of the large purple backdrop, the red leather jacket he wore over the simple black t-shirt stood out against the vivid screen.

Resting your chin in one hand, you were having a great time watching all of the photos being taken. So many amazing signs and poses that you’d have never thought of made the time fly by. A handful of people even begged Chris to be in their photo as well, to which he happily obliged. A couple of times you looked towards the people waiting in line. While most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the wait, a few people met your gaze with steely glares. Frowning only momentarily, you quickly forgot about the mean looks when one group had Jensen acting like he was diving for a fallen pie. Doubling over in laughter, you had to wipe tears set from where they threatened to spill over your eyes.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you lifted it to your face, confused by the unfamiliar number. The text message scrolled across your lock screen. Eyebrows disappearing behind the fall of your hair, you jumped from the height of your chair and slipped behind Cliff and out the door into the hallway.

“Hey [Y/F/N], are you busy?” Tilting your head in confusion, you were surprised when the Skype app opened on your screen - the same unfamiliar number flashing as the call sent the melodic sounds of your ringtone dancing through the hallway. Hesitantly you swiped a finger across the screen, accepting the call. Though surprised, you were happy when Vicki’s face filled the screen. Assuming Misha must have given her your phone number, you smiled at the woman before waving.

“Vicki! Hi!” Leaning against the cool plaster of the hallway you slid to the ground, tucking your knees up in front of you.

“Hey [Y/F/N], are you free to talk for a couple of minutes?” “Sure, what’s up?” The smile on your face wilted slightly at her soft tone. “Haha don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. Mish just asked me to talk to you about your …uh..situation. He seems to think you’re still upset about what happened Friday night and he wants to make sure we’re all on the same page.” Nodding at her concern, you shrugged “I figured it was a one time deal. He’d had some drinks an-” Suddenly your face paled, did Vicki know what all had happened? If so, was she angry? Were you about to be yelled at by Misha’s wife? Was she going to fire you? Darting your eyes around the screen, you scrutinized her face for any hint of anger or disappointment.

“Relax love, I’m not upset. In fact, the other night was my idea.”You’d been prepared for her to be angry with you, you’d hoped for her understanding, but you hadn’t expected her to be okay with it and certainly not to have suggested it. As the confusion spread across your face she laughed. “Let me explain. I keep forgetting that you and Misha haven’t had a lot of time to talk.” With a huff, you nodded. “Interruptions seem to crop up every time we sit down to talk about anything remotely serious.”

“Well, I’ll just cut to the chase then. Ya know…just in case a mob breaks out or something.” Dipping one eye into a wink, you laughed at Vicki’s chiding.

“So. About a year or two into Misha’s role on Supernatural, he began to be away from home more often than not. The stress of not seeing each other began to wear on us, not to mention the lack of sex. When I set out to write my book, I did a lot of research. Misha supported me the entire time, even if it wasn’t quite his cup of tea.” Laughing at the surprised look on your face, Vicki nodded. “It’s true, Misha used to be quite…reserved. Especially when it came to sex.” “Long story short, we were at a friend’s house one night, and we’d all been drinking. One thing led to another, and we all ended up in bed together.” Looking to the left and checking over the top of her screen, Vicki leaned in closer to the monitor, “It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life! Absolutely mind blowing..and hot? Holy damn.”Leaning back, she huffed, a grin spreading over her face. “Anyway, fast forward a couple more years. Now Misha is going to nearly every convention, and when he’s not traveling the country for those, he’s filming or working with his charity. So. I suggested he find a personal assistant. One who could keep him company during those long stretches of time when he wasn’t home.”

The realization of what she was saying took a few minutes to slide into place. Once it did, you weren’t quite sure how you felt. Sure, Misha’s wife had basically just given you her blessing to sleep with her husband..and yet at the same time your heart sank a bit. Feeling a bit like a means to an end, the look of confliction in your eyes prompted Vicki to continue. “Just so you know, because I totally recognize that look in your eyes - in the ten years Misha has been on the show, and of the six assistants he’s had during that time, only two have slept with my husband. You and just one other.” “He always brings the idea to me before he does anything. We talk about it. There are rules and everything.”

Vicki continued to explain the agreement she and her husband had come to. At the end of it all, you took a few minutes to soak in all the information. “And [Y/F/N]?” Lifting your eyes to meet her sparkling chocolate irises, color burned across your cheeks at her next words; “Just wait, when Misha and you come back on Monday, I’ll be sure to welcome you properly.” With a wink, she drug her fingers along the collarbone that peeked up from the garnet camisole she wore.

After you’d ended the call, you rose to your feet. Certainly a bit unsteady. “How…what is happening? This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me.” The thoughts swirling through your mind numbed you as a shiver rolled through your body.

Slinking back into the photo op room, you were surprised that only a few people remained from the line that had wrapped around the room and down the hallway earlier. Had you really been gone awhile or was Chris just that good at his job? Apparently, the answer was both. When the last guests had filed out, Chris sauntered over, resting an elbow on your shoulder. “Hey, you must be [Y/F/N], welcome to the clan.” He, like a number of the other men you’d been around lately had an infectious smile and gorgeous blue eyes that were so light, they were nearly white. Looking around at the room, you laughed self-consciously “Is it some requirement that everyone who works for or on television has to be gorgeous?” Playing at being bashful, Chris squeezed you into a hug as he pointed to the corner of the room where his second photographer was pointing a camera at you. Laughing just as the shutter released, you stepped away from the man before turning to look for Misha. Unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. “Really?!” “He was just here!” With a groan, you said good-bye to Chris and turned in the direction of the stairs. You were quickly realizing that keeping track of your boss was easier said than done.

Busying yourself in your phone as you descended the stairs, you didn’t notice the group of people staring at you and whispering to themselves as you rounded the corner. Disappearing into the sea of people who milled about the vendor area, you decided to head back to your room. It was nearly four o’clock and you were starving. The small cup of coffee that had served as your breakfast clearly hadn’t been enough.

You’d been so busy the entire morning that you’d completely forgotten about the previous night. With a resigned sigh, you flipped through your phone. He hadn’t called. Or sent a text. Nothing. As much as you’d been expecting this very thing to happen, you couldn’t say you weren’t disappointed.

As the elevator slowed to a stop at your floor, the soft ding of the bell cut through your thoughts. Deciding that you’d order some room service at sit outside on the patio to soak in some much needed Vitamin D before you headed back to the characteristically grey Northwest weather, you smiled.

Thirty minutes later, you were enjoying a turkey and bacon wrap, a tropical fruit salad and a large glass of iced tea as you smiled up into the sun. Ten days from now, you’d be packing for California. Luckily you’d be home for Thanksgiving. As much as you enjoyed traveling, it would be nice to be home.

The rest of the afternoon passed with little incident. You spent your time checking emails and making sure all of your reservations for San Francisco were correct. You knew they were. You’d looked at them twice since you had booked the airline tickets and hotel rooms.

When your phone began to ring, you nearly jumped when you saw it was Misha calling. “Hey!” “[Y/F/N], hey, could you grab something from my room for me?” Nodding absently, you pushed your chair back, rising to step into the cool darkness of your suite.

The quiet padding of your feet over the plush carpet paused as you stepped through the door that connected your room to that of your boss’ “What am I looking for Mish?” Your eyes scanned the floor of his room for the bag he’d told you about. Abruptly, strong arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back against a broad chest. Hot breath fanned over your neck as Misha growled against your skin “You found it.” 

Twisting in his embrace, you wound your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the dark hair curling over his ear and stepping up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. The dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned, the golden tone of his chest and stomach a stark divergence from the crisp starch of the white fabric. 

“Clever, Mr. Collins.” A low sound of contentment rumbled through his chest when you turned your head to rest against his warm skin. The heavy thud of his heart-beat comforted you. Inhaling deeply, you suddenly understood all of the discussions you'd read where other people had tried to describe the way Misha smelled. No one could agree on the same answer, most could only describe it as being comforting. Perhaps each person who'd been lucky enough to experience being wrapped in his arms had a different version of what comfort meant to them. To you, it meant rainy Sunday mornings in bed, the smell of pancakes, a backyard bar-be-que with friends, easy laughter and clean laundry fresh from the dryer.

Misha’s grip around your waist tightened, and you could feel his body heat radiating through you. Cupping one cheek with his broad hand, he tilted your chin up, meeting your questioning expression with his dark blue eyes. A ring of indigo so deep as to be nearly black framed his spectacular irises, and suddenly, you were gone. Lost in the depths of those perfect sapphires.

Tilting his head to one side, voice lowering several octaves, the gravelly tone of Castiel filtered through his stubbled jaw. “[Y/F/N]...are you well?” While you had liked the angel he played on television, Misha as Misha had always held the biggest spot in your heart. “Meeting" Cas first hand, however, you found your throat dry - though that may well have been the only part of yourself that was.

“Cas?” The question was soft. Brows knitting together in his characteristically bemused expression, Misha leaned in and gently touched his lips to yours; hesitant. 

A loud knock sounded from across the room, shattering the illusion the two of you had become wrapped in. Insistently demanding, the intrusion came again and you sighed, stepping back from the man in front of you. Turning towards the noise, you didn't notice the knowledge mingling with the smile on his face as he followed you to the door.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets a surprise, but then...so does Misha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh! Guys, sorry it took so long for me to get this up here. Finally done moving and getting settled and Ao3 is actually working today so...I'll be posting five chapters this week, but just two for tonight.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-0NE**

 

Misha had been determined to make up for Friday night. He still hadn't explained himself fully and even though [Y/F/N] seemed to have forgotten about it, he still wanted to be clear about the decision he’d made to leave before he broke the rules. Truth be told, he’d very nearly tossed all thoughts out the window and dealt with the consequences later.  Luckily for him, though perhaps not for you, he realized what a bad idea that would have been. As [Y/F/N] walked towards the door, he paused at the bedside table, wrapping his fingers around the rectangular handle and pulling open the topmost drawer. Satisfied with the contents, he hurried to shut it so as to join [Y/F/N] across the room, wanting to see her reaction first-hand. He only hoped the arrangement he’d organized would be something she'd enjoy.

Twisting the elegant, brushed aluminum handle of the heavy oak door, you pulled it open; frustration evident in your features. You really wanted nothing more than to close that door, draw the curtains and wrap yourself back in the warmth and comfort Misha provided.

“Surpr-" The words caught in Misha’s throat, barely suppressing the sound as he saw who stood just outside. Lifting the phone from his pocket, he hastily typed a message trying to intercept the person he _had_ been expecting.

Your irritated expression turned to one of shock even while stepping into the outstretched embrace of your sister. “What are you doing here?!” It made no logical sense, you were due back at the airport in several hours - why had she chosen today to spring a visit on you?

“Galen asked me to come for the weekend, and I got lonely. Yes, I'm an adult, but I've decided I must be like some kind of adult cat. I can probably manage fine on my own, but someone should occasionally check to make sure I keep myself alive.” She started laughing then, clearly pleased with her joke. Meanwhile, you were still searching your mind trying to figure out who the hell Galen was.

“Wait a second, back up. Who's Galen?!” The petulant look you were met with made it clear that you should've known who she was talking about. “Have you listened to nothing I've told you this week?” “Galen, ya know...from The Kiwi?” Comprehension dawned on you suddenly and you vaguely remembered your sister talking about the man.

Glancing over your shoulder as Misha loosely encircled your waist with his arms, your sister’s eyebrows shot up, noticing the state of undress your boss was in. With a haughty smirk, her eyes flicked between you and Misha. “Am I interrupting something?” “I can come back later.” The grin spreading across her face matched the innuendo in her voice.

Rolling your eyes and insisting that she'd interrupted nothing, you moved out of Misha’s embrace and stepped out into the hall, lifting your sister's discarded messenger bag from the carpet to hand back to her. “So, how lo--aaghh!” Eyes wild as you felt your feet leaving the ground,  you scrabbled at the unfamiliar hands on your hips as you were spun in a circle before promptly being deposited back on the ground. “Hey there, swee’har…” The deep voice in your ear helped settle your anxiety as you realized who it was. “H-hi.” Furrowing your brows in mock annoyance, you chastised the second man, blowing an errant tendril of hair from your eyes.  “Aw, but y’er cute when ya all flustered.”

Just then, Norman's eyes flicked to those of your sister, confusion spreading over his features as he looked between you and Misha before settling on the woman standing next to you. “Who’s ya fren, Sunshine?” Fingers clutched desperately at the hem of your t-shirt, the fine tremor coursing through your sister transferring to you. After introductions were made, Norman's pale blue eyes landed on Misha’s, a silent question passing from one man to the next. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Misha assured Norman that this had in fact, not, been part of the arrangement.

“Ri’ well, guess ah’ll talk ta ya later [Y/F/N].” Extending a pinky and pointer finger to his ear, Norman mouthed the words “call me" before turning and walking back down the hallway. “Uh, I'm going to go find Rob, forgot to ask him something.” With that, Misha pressed his lips to your temple, flashed your sister a brilliant, if not completely genuine smile and took off the same way as Norman had.

“What was that all about?” The incredulity on your sister's face was only matched by your own. “I have _no_ idea.” “Ha, maybe Misha was settin’ up an orgy between the three of ya.” Thinking back to the conversation you'd had with Vicki earlier, you shoved a hand into her shoulder tipping your sister slightly off balance as you scoffed at the absurdity of such a notion. “Yeah, right. Somehow I don't think that's Misha’s scene.” Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans you weren't surprised when a message from Misha came through just as you opened his contact information; “Dinner? 7 o’clock?” Smiling as you quickly typed out a reply, you mentioned the plans to your sister as the two of you finally meandered into the room, the door shutting behind you.

An hour later, you were walking across the hotel lawn, a warm tropic breeze carrying with it the smell of the plumeria trees. Inhaling deeply, you treasured these last few hours on the island. For a split second, the idea of moving to Hawaii invaded your thoughts, but you quickly dismissed the idea. The island would likely lose its charm if you were a full time resident and there was a certain magic in the time spent waiting -counting the days- between trips.

A dim golden light surrounded your bare shoulders as you entered the bustling restaurant. The dress you'd chosen was a brilliant emerald green, several layers of criss-crossing straps lent interest to the otherwise simple design. Approaching the maitre’d stand, you leaned forward so the wiry man could hear you over the voices floating through the air; conversations mingling with each other contributing to the relaxed atmosphere Hawaii was so well-known for.

You heard Jensen’s deep laughter before you'd even reached the table, a smile spreading across your face when the man whistled appreciatively before standing and lightly kissing your cheek in greeting.

Jared,  Misha and the others greeted you similarly when you'd lowered yourself into a chair at one corner of the table, opening the menu Kim passed you and perusing the selection of fresh island fare.

An hour later, as you started on your third drink, warm laughter echoed around you while stories were shared. Smiling to yourself you were still in awe of how much your life had changed in the past few weeks. Excusing himself for a moment as his phone rang, Jeffery stood, pushing the sleeves of his henley up around his forearms as he headed for the door.

A few minutes later, the sound of breaking plates and a yelp of surprise caught the attention of everyone at the table, along with the guests in the immediate vicinity. Standing to see what had caused the cacophony, your hand flew to subdue the snort of laughter at what met your gaze. You'd thought the sound of distress was familiar and the sight of your sister, frozen in some combination of fear and embarrassment as Jeffery held a hand out to help her off the ground amused you. “Are you alright darlin’? I'm such a klutz, please excuse my lack of awareness.” The dazzling white smile he flashed towards her may well have been the killing blow in the otherwise already mortifying situation. A low whimper her only response, she took his outstretched hand, and though she was covered in vodka sauce and parmesan, the man thought nothing of wrapping her in a hug, brushing the stray flakes of cheese from her violet and magenta hair as he rubbed one wide palm along her back. Steering her towards the table after the overturned dishes had been collected, you moved to her side and took her hand. “Guys, I'd like you to meet my sister.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader settles in back home for a quiet Thanksgiving

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

 

The plane ride home was exhausting, though otherwise uneventful. An early morning arrival met you and Misha with dark, wet roads and a severe drop in temperature, immediately making you wish you were back on the islands.

At just after four in the morning, you said your goodbyes to Misha and Cliff before falling into bed. While Hawaii had been beautiful, you were happy to be home. With the California convention closing out the season, you wondered what Misha would have you do during the winter break. Wrapping yourself in a nest of blankets, your eyes closed almost immediately after crawling into your four-poster canopy bed.

Plaintive cries of indignation tore you from a dreamless sleep and you woke to find both of your cats pointedly staring at you from atop their position on your stomach. One of them had the good grace to at least offer a rumbling purr at the first sign of your stirring. Your attempts to ignore their demands for food by rolling to the other side of the mattress did little to deter them. Snuffling purrs rolled against the curve of your ear, whiskers tickling the skin with their light touch. “Fine, yes, I’m getting up!” With a heaving groan you stumbled from the soft surface, absentmindedly filling the empty dishes in the kitchen so as to dissuade the complaints of the dependents who wound through your legs.

Dragging the comforter from your room to wrap around your shoulders, you settled into the couch for a day of movie watching. Since your sister was still in Hawaii with Galen, the idea of a quiet day at home was just what you needed. Flipping through several social media platforms and seeing no updates from her surprised you, usually she dominated the websites with non-stop photos. Shrugging it off, your attention turned back to the tv, content with your decision to have a Harry Potter marathon. Musing to yourself, you wondered, was it possible to watch all seven movies in one day?

You were able to make it through the first and most of the second film before dozing off, and the rest of the day was filled with a cycle of sleeping, switching discs and eating. Towards the end of the evening, an Instagram notification appeared on your phone, once again startling you from the light state of unconsciousness you’d drifted in and out of today. A half smile of relief at the beachy sunset quelled the uneasiness that had tried to worm its way into your mind. Watching over your sister had been something you’d tasked yourself with from a young age, and even now that the two of you were adults, it was a hard habit to break.

Early the next morning, you dressed quickly. One perk to having an early-to-rise boss was that often by eight am you’d already been awake for a couple hours. This schedule had almost seamlessly transferred to include your days off. Thanksgiving was a week away and you’d finally be able to not only afford all of the ingredients for a literal feast, but also have people to share your efforts with. A beautiful fall day greeted you as you descended the stairs, stopping a moment to appreciate the crisp chill of the air and the dried leaves that painted the ground in values of crimson, gold and tangerine.

Turning your music up and speeding through scattered leaves had you smiling to yourself when you pulled into the grocery store parking lot a few minutes later. Although it was early, plenty of people were already gathering their groceries for the upcoming holiday. Pointing the key fob over your shoulder and pulling the crimson peacoat more securely around your shoulders, the audible beeping of the car locking echoed around you.

Grabbing your phone from the pocket inside your bag, you unlocked the screen and navigated through the applications until you found the list of ingredients you needed to purchase. Humming contentedly to yourself as the pile of produce and baking components accumulated in the cart, you didn’t notice until too late that you’d bumped into another lady in front of you. As you rushed to apologize, you quickly realized it was your old boss. The furtive glances and tight-lipped smile she offered created an air of awkwardness as you mumbled an obligatory hello. “So…[Y/F/N], ho-how have you been?” The light touch of her fingertips on your shoulder made you flinch, though you doubted she had noticed. Her white-knuckled grip on the handles of her basket betrayed her confident demeanor. Taking a deep breath, you considered. How had you been? Fucking fantastic was the answer. And yes, you had been upset when she’d unceremoniously fired you, but without having had that happen, you might never have been given the opportunity to accept what had literally become your dream-job. “Actually...I’ve been great! I found a new position pretty quickly and I’m so grateful that things worked out how they did. Otherwise, I’d still be struggling to pay my bills and feeling like my career was going nowhere.” The excitement in your tone was unquestionable, but the look of hurt in the woman’s eyes made it clear that she’d thought you were being frigid. “Oh! I mean..I was really appreciative of the relationship we’d formed for the years I worked for you, please don’t misunderstand. I’m not trying to be rude, and I realize you could only offer me so much. Really though, you gave me something I didn’t have the courage to do for myself; an out. So, for that, thank you.” The tentative smile and confidence that swept through you allowed you to fold her into a hug, her bewildered expression delaying her reaction. As she brought her arms up to return the hug, you were already stepping back, guiding your cart around her. “Happy Holidays!” The lilting tone in your voice settled into the same comfortable humming from earlier as you added the final items from your list to the cart.

Amongst the friendly chatter with the young woman ringing up your groceries, your phone began to ring. The muffled sounds of Louden Swain drifted from the bottom of your bag and you set to work digging through the expansive tote trying to find the device in time to answer it. “I love Louden Swain, did you go to their concert in Seattle last month?” The bright brown eyes of the cashier lit up, and with them, so did her entire face. “I didn’t get to unfortunately, I had to work - but I was able to see them perform a few days ago in Hawaii, they are fantastic aren’t they?” Nodding as she finished calculating your order, you lifted the phone to your ear just in time to have the ringing silence itself. Flipping through the caller ID, you realized it was Misha who’d called. Not wanting to be rude, you paid for your purchases and thanked the woman, wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving as you dialed the number to reach your boss. “Hey Misha, what’s up?” “Nothing, just some errands.” As you turned to leave you didn’t notice the look of surprise come over the woman’s face who watched you walk away from her checkstand, bags of groceries gripped tightly in your hand.

As you unloaded the items from the back of your car and carried them up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, your phone rang again. Luckily, this time it started right as you reached the final landing. “Norman! Wow, I didn’t expect you to call, how are you?!” The excitement in your voice caused you to miss the questioning tone of his voice. “Why’da think ah wou’na call ya?” “Happy Thanksgivin’ Sunshine!” Laughing, you returned the greeting only to remind him that you still had a week to prepare and not to jinx you. As the two of you discussed your individual holiday plans, the phone beeped against your shoulder just as you set the milk in the door of the refrigerator. “One sec, that’s my other line.” Switching calls, Misha was there asking you to work for a few hours. Looking around to make sure everything was put away, you scooped some food from the container for your cats and lowered the bowls to the ground. Not knowing how long you were going to be gone, you’d rather know the girls had been fed early than making them wait too long. Promising you’d be there soon, you ended the call as you once again grabbed your keys and shut the door behind you. There hadn’t even been enough time to take off your coat.

As you docked your phone in the car cradle, you quickly realized the second line was on hold; Norman was still waiting. Cursing, you quickly fumbled for the screen as you started the car. “Sorry, I totally didn’t forget that you were still waiting on me.” Laughter echoed through your car speakers as you turned left out of the parking lot and headed for I-5 North. “I forgive ya, swee’har, dun worry abou’ it.” Norman kept you company for the drive to Misha’s house, talking about meeting new people in Australia for the wrap-up of season three. A tired sigh filtered through the space around you and you recognized the sound of exhaustion that came with Norman’s voice. “Hey, just one more week till Thanksgiving, you can stuff yourself silly and nap all day!” The laughter in your voice ebbed away when Norman snorted. “Nah, gotta work till Wednesday and I’m just hanging out in Georgia for the rest of the week. Gonna be kina quiet, Mingus is spending the week with ‘is mom - so it’s just gonna be me an’ Eye.” A quiet huff punctuated the statement. “Anyhow, ya prolly gettin’ close ta Misha’s place - I’ll talk ta ya later, gotta get back ta work.” After saying your goodbyes, the call ended just as you pulled into Misha’s driveway.

Sitting in the office chair behind his desk, you set to work organizing the newest information for the project that would replace Gishwhes. Although you’d never gotten the chance to participate in the scavenger hunt, the new version sounded just as fun. “Hey, [Y/F/N], can you call Jensen and ask if they’ll still be in Vancouver next week? I need a headcount for dinner.” Scribbling the note on a scrap piece of paper so you wouldn’t forget, you grabbed your phone to look up his number. “Oh! And Rachel is waiting on the final numbers from the Castiel ops we offered last weekend, can you email Creation and have them contact her please?” The task joined the one on your notepad as you continued to scroll through your now extensive contacts list. The sheer amount of phone numbers you’d received over the last week still surprised you. Muttering to yourself, you ran through the entries, “Briana, Kim, Jared...there, Jensen.” A text message from your sister came through just as you were about to call the Ackles'.

 

_‘Hey love, won’t be home for Thanksgiving next week, Galen wants me to stay another few days. Love you.”_

 

As your shoulders dropped at the news, you couldn’t say you weren’t disappointed, but you were happy she was having a good time. Pushing the thought from your mind, you went back to calling Jensen as you opened a blank email and sent the request for a financial report to the convention team.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader spends Thanksgiving with the SPN Cast <3

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

The rest of the week passed quickly as you finalized plans for the southern California convention taking place the first weekend of December. When you'd asked what would happen once the convention circuit finished for the year, Misha had reminded you that he was in the middle of filming season thirteen, and that it was likely the two of you would be spending a substantial part of the next several months in Vancouver. Although since he lived so close he often came home on the weekends, so he assured you would have some down time. Not that you minded, spending a bunch of time with your prohibitively sexy boss who you also happened to be sleeping with? It was a no-brainer.

Thursday morning dawned chilly, a cold wind and drizzling rain pelted the worn shingles of your roof. Drawing the venetian blinds open filled the living room with a grey light and you smiled as your cats appointed themselves door guardians, keeping a wary eye on the crows who enjoyed taunting them from the deck.

Padding into the kitchen you set to work gathering the materials to make cheesecake. It was your favorite dessert, and you saved the lengthy process for the holidays. Reaching up to the top shelf of your cupboards required a step stool, as even on tiptoes the mixing bowls eluded you. Whoever had designed the kitchen failed to realize that putting cupboards above the dishwasher made them out of reach for all but the tallest people.

Straining for the stack of glass bowls occupied your attention. Just as you got a good grip on the lip of one your phone rang. Looking around you in search of the source quickly revealed that you'd left the device on the couch. By the sounds of the muffled tone, it had slid between the cushions. Setting the bowls on the counter you ran into the adjacent room, just catching the call before it went to voicemail.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Collins.” Groaning, Misha sighed on the other end of the call. “You're lucky I need you Ms. [Y/L/N], otherwise you'd be in serious need of an attitude adjustment.” The gravelly admonishment made you flush, a crimson heat pooling through your belly. Clearing his throat, your boss quickly changed the subject. “So, ahh, I hate to do this but..do you think you could come help us in the kitchen? I may have bitten off more than I could chew with this menu.” You were about to tell him you'd be happy to, but he continued, hastily adding that you could bring your sister if you wanted to and that he'd give you a bonus if you'd save his ass. Laughing through the line, you agreed - on the condition that you could bring dessert. “Thanks [Y/F/N], you really are a lifesaver.”

You weren't about to turn down more time with Misha, the salary boost was just an added bonus. He need never know that you had planned on spending the day stuffing your face with cheesecake; deciding to forego the big spread when you realized you'd be spending the holiday alone had saved you a lot of time and money.

Gathering all of the ingredients into a grocery tote along with several mixing bowls, your biggest springform pan and the fresh fruit used for garnish, you moved into your room to change. The bright blue fleece pajama pants littered with sheep that you currently wore didn't exactly feel right. 

Not wanting to overdo things, you decided on a pair of soft, plum colored leggings and a form-fitting black tunic top, the hem falling just a few inches past the curve of your thighs. Pulling knee-high, oatmeal colored wool socks on before lacing up your pair of soft leather boots completed the outfit. Spreading a thick layer of dark eyeliner on to accompany the purple and black smokey-eye was just enough to tie everything together, your [Y/E/C] irises framed by the heavier makeup.

Pulling a brush through your long [Y/H/C] hair was enough, you knew if you were cooking that a fancier hairstyle wouldn't last long anyhow. 

The highway held few cars, making the drive pass quickly. Pulling into Misha’s neighborhood, you were surprised by the number of cars parked both in his driveway and lining the street. Knocking on the heavy front door left you standing on the porch for a few minutes. After several tries,  you squeezed the handle, and finding it unlocked, let yourself in.

The maelstrom that greeted you was intense. West chased Tom and Shep through the house while JJ sat on the plush rug of the living room and stacked blocks with Maison. Gen and Daneel reclined together on the overstuffed sofa, glasses of red wine clutched in their hands, chatting as they kept a watchful eye on the girls. Rather than being overwhelmed, you felt like part of the family, a smile passing over your face as you took in your surroundings and made your way to the kitchen.

Vicki stood behind the cool marble covered island that dominated the center of the room. The sharp knife in her hand sliced through vegetables with ease. Seeing you walk in, she lowered the blade, and, wiping her hands on the half apron tied around her waist; enveloped you in a bone crushing hug. “[Y/F/N]! Thank you so much for coming to help with dinner...you know how Misha can be.” Thinking back to the first night you’d met the Collins’, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “So, what scheme has he thought of this time?” Lifting your bags up onto the counter, your [Y/E/C] eyes widened in shock at the thick piece of cardstock Vicki handed across her work station. “He..he actually made a menu?” “Where is our host anyhow?” Vicki snorted under her breath in mild amusement, motioning vaguely over her shoulder with the knife she’d taken up to finish her task. 

Turning your attention to the set of double french doors behind her, you wandered across the cool wooden floor and looked through the glass. Misha, Jared and Jensen were all huddled around a large grill, where two twenty-pound turkeys were trussed and stuffed with herbs; slowly turning over the open flame. Jared noticed you first as you leaned against the oak door frame, impressed at their dedication. “Why am I not surprised that you are  _ actually  _ roasting turkeys over an open fire?” Jensen held up his hands and backed away from the heat, shaking his head while he tilted an amber bottle to his lips. “Not me, Jared and I are giving him shit. There’s no way Misha can do this and have them finish before next year. We’re taking bets on how long it’ll take until we get to eat.” “Supervising, you might say..” Jared quipped as he moved to wrap his arms around you in greeting.

Misha’s attention finally rose from the spit and his eyes met [Y/F/N], a slow smile twisting over his face at the woman standing in his doorway. She looked amazing; a glass of wine in her hand as she smiled back at him, an amused expression on her face. “Well boys, have fun out here in the cold. I’m going back inside to surround myself with beautiful women...and cheesecake.” A torrent of wind off of the bay swirled around you as you stepped back into the warmth of the house. 

There was a great deal of work to be done for the two desserts you had promised. Melting white chocolate over a double boiler while simultaneously reducing fresh raspberries into a puree forced you to abandon the glass of merlot Vicki had poured you. With those tasks complete you began assembling the base recipe for the cheesecakes themselves, the onyx monster of a stand mixer working overtime to whip the ingredients together. Crossing the kitchen to pour freshly ground coffee beans into the espresso machine for the tiramisu cheesecake took only a moment, the compelling smell warming you from the inside out. 

Two hours later, you pulled the hot desserts from the double ovens set into the wall. Lowering the cakes to cooling racks well out of reach of small hands, you sighed; content. The smell of roasting turkey wafted through the open door when you poked your head outside to check how things were going. Rosemary, thyme and orange married together beautifully, a hint of sage rounding out the bouquet. The smug look on Misha’s face at his success caught your eye, his piercing blue eyes lit with satisfaction, that damning smile of his adding to the heat that burned through you.

Setting the expansive table distracted you well enough. A smaller, square oak table had been set aside just for the kids and you found your mind wandering to how it would feel to have your own child joining the others as they clambered up into their chairs. Shaking your head, you huffed at the thought. You didn’t like children. Mentally berating the biological clock that occasionally screamed at you to procreate, you shoved the idea away from your conscience. You could barely take care of yourself, adding a two-legged little gremlin to the mix wasn’t even a somewhat good idea. Pouring yourself a second glass of wine, you settled into one of the twelve heavy chairs that flocked the stretch of dark wood quickly filling with a myriad of dishes.

Dinner played out as if it were the scene in a hallmark movie. The  food was delicious, Misha spending twenty minutes carving up both turkeys before setting large, oval platters of meat at each end of the table. Tureens filled with mashed potatoes, both sweet and gold sat nestled amongst casseroles of stuffing, whole cranberries lending their beautiful color to the tablescape. Massive biscuits rested in napkin lined baskets; an old recipe handed down to Gen from her grandparents. Misha’s homemade wine flowing freely while the kids enjoyed fresh squeezed lemonade, West excitedly telling anyone who would listen that he’d help make it.

“[Y/F/N], where’s your sister? Did she not want to join us?” Jared’s hazel eyes were warm as they turned to you, his fingers laced with Gen’s. “She’s decided to stay in Hawaii for another week, actually.” Vicki’s eyes widened as she realized that you’d planned to be home alone today and she grimaced. “If Misha hadn’t called you to help, what exactly would you be doing right now?” Shrugging, you swallowed another drink of the fruity liquid in your glass before answering. “Probably stuffing myself full of cheesecake and watching movies in my pajamas.” “What?! There are at  _ least  _ three food groups in cheesecake, it’s a nice, balanced meal.” “I’m not complaining though, this turkey is a-maaaazing Misha.” 

After hours spent shopping, prepping and cooking the veritable feast laid out before you, everyone was overfull within thirty minutes. Jared and Jensen herded the children upstairs to change into pajamas and get cleaned up while Daneel, Gen and Vicki cleared the table. Back in the kitchen you pulled the fresh raspberry puree and heavy whipping cream from the refrigerator, spreading the fruit topping evenly across the surface of one of the cheesecakes. White chocolate curls and whole berries decorated the outer ring and sides of the confection. Adding the heavy cream to a stainless steel charger produced beautifully fresh cream for the tiramisu cake and, carrying them out to the table gleaned the interest of everyone in the house. A concerned look fell over Jensen’s face as he warred with the idea of whether or not he could fit additional food in his stomach. Laughing, you assured him there was plenty and that he could eat it later. With a curt nod of his head, he and Jared followed Misha back outside and you turned questioning glances to the women sitting around you. “It’s become a bit of a tradition when we’re all together to light up the fire pit and disconnect for awhile. C’mon [Y/F/N], you’ll see what we mean.” Vicki’s fingers stretched out to envelope your own as she moved to lift several large blankets from a basket by the door. Tilting her head in invitation, you followed her and the others outside where the boys already sat, the small children clambering up into their father’s laps. As you moved to sit in one of the adirondack chairs huddled near the iron pit of dancing flames, Vicki glared at you. “Don’t even think about running off by yourself, you come sit with us. You’re family now, whether you like it or not.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicki welcomes the reader to the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Fluff and a sordid welcome to the family. *This chapter contains adult/mature themes including suggestive content between Reader and Vicki*  
> Next update is forthcoming ;)

**TWENTY-FOUR**

Sometime around eight-thirty, as Darius told yet another story about Misha’s antics, you looked across the flames to see Daneel, Gen and their children all asleep. Jared absentmindedly combing his fingers through Gen’s dark chocolate waves and Jensen smiling wistfully at the most important women in his life.

As you slipped into a daydream filled with thoughts of living happily with a family of your own, the petite arm draped around your shoulders tightened in a comforting squeeze. Vicki, observant as ever, pressed her lips to your ear, “you've got us [Y/F/N], I told you, you're family now.” The thought comforted you to some degree, and you decided to try and just be in the moment rather than worrying about the future. You had a habit of wondering  when the next life-changing event would happen in your life to such a degree, that you often forgot to enjoy them when they did.

The quiet hiss of water hitting the rim of the searing fire pit caught your attention as heavy drops of rain began to fall. Distant thunder rolled through the sky, and you moved from your seat to the banister of the deck, resting your arms against the cool cedar beams. It was a rare thing to have a real thunderstorm in this area, and you were entranced by the symphony of sounds as the rain moved from an occasional drop to a light sprinkle.

Rousing the sleeping children from their laps, the Ackles and Padalecki’s quickly moved into the house, Vicki and Misha following behind. West and Maison hadn't even flinched when the weather had turned balmy. Turning back to the sky, you inhaled deeply, spreading your arms wide and laughing as the sprinkle made way for the storm; sheets of water quickly reducing the fire to sputtering, glowing embers.

It was Misha’s turn to smile. [Y/F/N] laughed as she threw her head back and spread her arms wide; welcoming the rain. The wood frame of the door groaned in protest when he leaned against it, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he watched his girlfriend dancing in the rain. Had he really just called her his girlfriend? Luckily it'd been only in his head, he mused. He was surprised with how quickly he'd come to care for the woman. It had only been a month and he already felt like she'd always been his.

With the water splashing across your skin and quickly soaking through your hair you stopped spinning, taking a moment to get your bearings. The quiet huff of levity drew your attention to the man framed in the doorway. With a wide smile, you lurched forward, wrapping a wet hand around the warm skin of his wrist and pulling him off balance, out into the evening showers.

“AGHHGH, I'm melting...I'm melting..” a dramatic hand pressed to his forehead had you laughing quietly as the rain quickly soaked through his clothes, his artfully disheveled hair dripping into those impossibly blue eyes. Your damp clothes stuck to your skin, and as the breeze picked up again a chill spread through your limbs. Misha, noting the fine tremble wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his body. “Better?” he implored. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. In answer to his ridiculous question, you rose up onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. Wrapping your arms around his neck pulled his warm body closer to yours as the kiss intensified. The rain continued it's deluge around the two of you, but it was the last thing on your mind when Misha's fingers dug into your hips, his cock stirring beneath the now soaked denim of his jeans. The considerable effort required to pull back from the man who seemed content to fuck you right here and now was palpable, and only after giving in to several more attempts were you able to fight through the heady feeling that came with being in Misha's presence.

Thoroughly soaked, Vicki simply shook her head when the two of you walked back through the patio doors into the kitchen. “I can't leave you two alone for ten minutes and you're out snogging in the water.” Crossing around the island, the woman approached you, her maroon glasses having slid down the bridge of her nose only added to her disapproving look.

The sheepish look on your face was short lived when the woman approached, reaching out for your hand. “C’mon then, into the shower with you, can't have you getting sick - Mish would lose his head, wouldn’cha babe?” Winking to soften the impact of her words, Vicki turned back towards you as the three of you made your way down the hall.

Twenty minutes later, you stepped from the expansive stone shower and wrapped yourself in an oversized white towel. Briefly you wondered if it was the _same_ white towel that Misha had worn so nonchalantly that first week. Just the thought of that image -forever seared into your mind- made you shiver with desire. Shaking your head to clear the thoughts, your hand closed around the door handle and pulled it open. “Hey Vee, than-"  words stopped abruptly and you averted your eyes out of habit when you saw the woman bent double, rummaging through what you assumed was her underwear drawer.

Straightening, she turned to ask what you had said, seeming wholly unconcerned by the idea of her nudity. Crimson laced panties covered the curve of her narrow hips and ass. You hadn't meant to stare, and whether the sudden frigid body language was the result of fear or unabashed attraction was unclear. As she approached you, her hips swaying as only a ladies’ can, a knowing smile spread across her features and there was new life in her dark eyes; layers of caramel swirled through the chocolate, and you couldn't seem to look away. Truth be told, it had been nearly ten years since you'd last found yourself in the company of a woman. Your heart thundered against your ribcage, the raucous sound echoing through your mind as Vicki stopped just short of touching you. The melody of her laugh drew you from your thoughts as her long, cool fingers laced themselves with yours. “Relax, sweetheart - I won’t bite...hard.” “I believe I promised you a proper welcoming to our family…?” The words trailed from her lips, the questioning tone asking for permission...making sure you wanted this. While your [Y/E/C] eyes still nervously darted between hers, the slight dip of your head spoke for you, and when she pressed warm, soft lips to yours, you melted against her, encircling her waist with your one free arm and pulling her against your body.

The small yelp of delight that slipped from Vicki’s lips filtered through the bedroom door, effectively stopping Misha in his tracks. [Y/F/N] had still been in the shower when he’d left to check on the kids and to make sure their house guests were comfortable. Intrigued, he crept along the darkened hallway until he reached the bedroom. Peering through the cracked door, Misha’s mouth ran dry - his pupils dilating at the scene that greeted him. “Ohhhhholyfuuuckkk…” The words were a whispered groan. His pants tightened around the sudden, strong erection; a deep rumble of need echoed in his chest as he watched his wife make out with his girlfriend. Absentmindedly, Misha’s hand drifted down to rest against the thickness that strained against the cotton pajama bottoms, the other palm pressed against the cool wooden door. The sliver of light pouring through the crack expanded as the door inched open with his touch.

The low whine of the hinges distracted you enough to pull your attention from the kiss, your swollen lips and lust filled eyes darting to find the source of the noise. Stepping back from your embrace, Vicki, with a knowing smile on her face, advanced towards the door. Pulling it open to find her husband contentedly watching, his own eyes blown so wide with lust, there was only the smallest sliver of navy ringing the pupil. Crossing her arms across the expansive swell of her chest, a finely arched brow raised in mock disbelief at the sight before her. “Well, well...Mr. Collins…”

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is officially welcomed to the family <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Porn Gif, Smut, three-some, F/F/M, Dom!Vicki Undertones

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

Swallowing quickly, Misha had the foresight to know better than correct his wife in such a situation. She made him wait for thirty agonizing seconds before relenting and uncrossing her arms to reach for his hand.

[Y/F/N] approached Vicki from behind with a confidence he’d not witnessed previously. Snaking one arm around her midsection, she pulled his wife's back against the swell of her chest. While still wrapped in the towel she'd used after showering, the thick material had begun to loosen, slipping haphazardly as she lowered her mouth to the crook of Vicki’s neck, [Y/E/C]eyes turned challengingly up towards him; daring the man to steal her prize.

Misha wouldn't have dreamt of it, and, as Vicki pulled him to the corner of their room and pointed to the winged recliners flanking the large picture windows, he happily sat back, his focus trained on the two women before him.

[Y/F/N]’s towel never stood a chance, the plush terry-cloth dropped from her waist when the back of her knees collided with the massive, king-sized mattress flanking what seemed to be an entire wall of the impressive master bedroom. Deep pine green sheets stretched across the surface, and your skin trembled at the loss of the covering, though whether it was due to the chill of the linens or the desire racing through your blood wasn't clear. Vicki hovered at the end of the mattress for the briefest moment before her weight dipped into its surface and she crawled towards you, the look in her eyes predatory.

A rush of breath parted Misha's pale lips as he watched his wife seduce [Y/F/N]. She was deliberate in her mission, and, judging by her posture - she was maintaining serious eye contact. Lowering her own ample chest to the bed, Vicki's ass rose into the air, her hips languidly drifting side to side as she slid firm hands around [Y/F/N]’s legs, lifting them to rest over her shoulders while lowering her mouth to the soft skin of her inner thighs; ghost-like kisses spreading their warmth as [Y/F/N]’s breath caught in her throat, the steady thrum of her heart increasing its tempo.

You concentrated on every touch, every brush of skin sending a shower of sparks through your limbs. Closing your eyes as the rhythm of your heart shifted, a sudden sharp cry of pleasure was truncated by your own hand when Vicki’s tongue flattened and licked a hot line between your legs. Nudging her nose through your folds she made quick work of sealing her lips around your clit, her tongue darting over the already sensitive bundle of nerves while her nails danced lazily across your stomach.

Watching Vicki eat at [Y/F/N]’s core tested Misha's patience. His cock now straining against the cotton of his pajama pants, he hastily shoved his fingers beneath the band, wrapping them around his shaft and lazily stroking his length to try and give himself some relief.

“FUCK!” The loud cry from across the room made him groan as his eyes snapped to the women spread across his bed. The bed he had built with his own hands so many years ago. Never had he imagined that it would one day be cradling two beautiful women as they pleasured each other. It was then that something snapped in Misha, and he rose from the cushion, crossing the room in several strides; quickly shedding the confining pants that stretched across his erection.

Pulling his wife from between your legs, Misha’s mouth descended on hers, effortlessly lifting her small frame and wrapping her legs around his trim waist.  The loss of contact made you tremble and a low whine escaped your lips. Scrambling to your knees, you lost no time in reaching for the thick cock that brushed his belly. The flushed skin around his head wept as your lips secured themselves around his girth, your tongue darting out to lap the tangy pre-cum from his skin. Misha's eyes sizzled with intensity as they flicked to you. A deep groan of satisfaction thrumming through your chest reverberated across his cock, sending shockwaves through his body. His attention swept your body, the sight of you greedily sucking him into the back of your throat was nearly his undoing, and, shifting Vicki's weight to one arm, his free hand pressed between her thighs. Grunting, he shoved two thick fingers into her dripping cunt, gathering the slick that pooled there as he curled his fingers against the front of her belly.

Vicki ground her hips against the fingers pumping aggressively into her core, her breathing labored as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Looking down for the first time since Misha had stolen her from between [Y/F/N]’s thighs, her eyes found yours just as you looked up the line of Misha's body, his golden skin hot to the touch.

Lowering herself from Misha's substantial frame, Vicki's hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you from your knees and crushing your weight in her surprisingly strong grip. “On the bed. NOW!” Heat pooled between your thighs at her commanding insistence and you felt your body react, slick coating your thighs as you followed her instructions. Turning to her husband, Vicki walked around behind him, shoving a hand in the small of his back. “I need you to fuck [Y/F/N] now, babe. I need to see you inside her.” Misha watched as Vicki climbed to the head of the expansive bed, her fingers trailing across her body, waves of goosebumps racing across the surface as her eyes found yours, a fire lighting them from within.

Just as your lips parted to question her request, you were shoved over the foot of the bed, your tight breasts grazing the woven texture of the duvet. Strong fingers wrapped around your hips and the bruising grip sent a cry from between your lips as the silken head of Misha's cock slid between your soaked folds, teasing your entrance but holding back just enough to make you squirm.

You would be his end, Misha thought to himself. The sight of your ass pushing back against his cock as he gathered the slick coating your thighs once again distracted him. His eyes snapped to Vicki and the foil packet he tore between his teeth wouldn't open quickly enough. Pulling back just enough to roll the condom over his length, he gripped the base of his cock and lined it up with [Y/F/N]’s body, struggling to not slam into her.

As soon as Misha's tip teased your dripping cunt, you slammed your hips back against his, the full length of his cock sliding home made you scream in pleasure, your nails raking through the blankets in front of you in search of something to dig them into. Misha hadn't expected the assault and the sudden tightness clenching, sucking at his cock made him shudder. Throwing his head back, a growl rumbled through his body, his fingers tightening around your hips as he slowly withdrew, inch by agonizing inch before slamming back into you. “Fuck, yes! You like that, dontcha? God you take my cock so well. That tight little pussy of yours just can't get enough can she?” Misha bent over your back, gritting his teeth as he swore under his breath, setting a punishing rhythm that caused moans of pleasure to slip from your panting lips.

Glancing up at the woman with her back pressed into the headboard, a sudden hunger tore through your body, one hand darting out to wrap clammy fingers around her ankle. Vicki had zero time to react as she was pulled towards [Y/F/N] and the woman being fucked by her husband loosened her grip on the ankle she’d grabbed and wrapped both hands around her hips, her nails digging into the soft skin as her mouth plunged down between Vicki’s thighs. A startled cry caught in her throat as [Y/F/N] drug her tongue through Vicki’s folds, the tangy taste assaulting her tongue. Lowering one hand from your grip on her waist, you teased her with the tip of your finger. As the warmth of her cunt covered your exploring hands, you pressed onwards, sinking into her body while your mouth worried at her clit. Vicki’s hips bucked into your hand when you added a second finger. “Yeah, baby, just like that.” Heavy sighs fell from her lips and the sound made you even wetter. Something you hadn't thought possible.

Misha noticed the change in your body and groaned in satisfaction. Sliding one finger along his length, on the next thrust, as he slid back into your body, his index finger stretched you open more. Curling that finger as your body adjusted, he pulled it from your cunt, a trail of wetness marking your eagerness. As you continued to thrust back into Misha's  cock the heat rising in your belly made you moan. “Holy Hell...Oh fuck...yes! Don't stop Misha, please don't stop.” As you continued to assault Vicki’s own dripping pussy, a thin sheen of sweat coated her heavy chest as her fingers tangled in the sheets around her. Reaching up her body as her breathing intensified, you rolled one nipple between your fingers, pinching the pebbled nub while your tongue teased her clit. “Wrapping her fingers into your long hair she yanked a tendril in her fist as she came, her body quaking with pleasure.

Misha's hand slid along the length of your thigh, raising over the swell of your ass as his thrusts began to stutter. Consciously, you squeezed around his cock, and he re-doubled his efforts, strings of profanities slipping unintelligible from his dry lips. Spreading his fingers wide he raised his palm and brought it down across your skin with a resounding crack,  a cry of ecstasy falling from your mouth as that coil broke, your flooded cunt contracting around Misha’s cock as he came - collapsing against your back as his chest heaved. The weight of his body pushing you into the mattress while your head rested against Vicki’s flushed skin made your eyes heavy, your heart still hammering against your ribs.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you awoke with your back pressed against Misha's warm chest, his deep, even breathing telling you he was still fast asleep. Vicki lay wrapped in your arms, her wide chocolate eyes staring up at your own [Y/E/C] irises, a soft smile playing across her features as she leaned forward and kissed you, a gentle peck, followed by a second. Warmth blossomed from your heart as the kiss deepend. Intertwining her legs with yours, she scooted closer, feeding insistently at your mouth, her hips lazily rutting against the front of the cotton sleep shorts you'd ended up putting on at some point. “You are...insatiable, aren't you? Both of you..” Pulling you tighter against his body, Misha's teeth grazed your ear before snuggling back into the crook of your neck - a content sigh fanning across your skin as drowsiness once again took over.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader settles in to life with the Collins' while some pretty heavy feelings start surfacing not only from the reader, but also from both Misha and Vicki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm still alive - thank you for sticking with me through this :D  
> First chapter in six months...yikes! Hope to make more regular contributions to this story. I have ideas of where I want it to go - just having a tough time connecting plot points.

**TWENTY-SIX**

Over the course of the following week the atmosphere around the Collins’ home shifted. No longer did you feel like an employee, but more a member of the family. You'd often find yourself playing with West and Maison, even outside your normal work hours - the small body of a certain little girl currently wrapped around your right leg. Exaggerating your movements into making her think she was winning her game filled you with a funny sense of contentment. You found yourself thinking back to that fateful day a few months prior when Misha had come into your life, opening that heavy oak door and smiling up at you with Maison similarly attached to his ankles.

Stooping to lift the toddler from the floor, you were slightly taken aback when she threw small arms around your neck; the powdery scent of her soft skin filling your nostrils. “I lub you [Y/F/N].” The child beamed up at you, her primitive grasp of language softened the words, several syllables in the basic sentence pronounced incorrectly. The message was clear enough though and that small yearning in the back of your mind where your biological clock ticked awakened briefly.

Returning the sentiment, if only to appease the little girl, you pressed your lips to her temple - the fine flaxen hair smooth to the touch. Wriggling in your arms, you bent over to set her back on the ground. No sooner had she run off than a sharp smack landed on your ass; the brief jolt of pain lancing through your body quickly became waves of pleasure. Turning into Misha's arms, the man growled almost possessively, warm breath fanning across your neck “you're so good with my kids [Y/F/N].” Scoffing, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Intent on laughing it off, you prepared to throw some witty retort back at the man. When you looked up at him however, the heat in his eyes made you shiver - words becoming lodged in your throat; your conscious mind buzzing with indecipherable babble.

“How do you do that?”

“Hmmm..do what?” Misha's nose was inches from your own, the strength of his arms wrapped around your waist holding you in place.

“Make me turn into an incoherent, babbling fool whenever you speak.” A soft chuckle his only answer before embracing you tighter, his lips descended upon yours and you were lost once again.

“Magic.” With a haughty smirk, he pulled away, drifting down the hall into his office.

With a resigned sigh, you turned towards the kitchen and found Vicki framed in the doorway.

“He's right, ya know.”

“Ugh, not you too..”, trying for a quick exit, the woman refused to move from her position. “Oh, alright, so they've grown on me. Happy?” Although there was an edge to your tone, it was in jest only and seemed to satisfy her curiosity.

A short time later, the two of you were reclined on the overstuffed sofa, the quiet buzz of a nature documentary playing in the background. Vicki's narrow fingers artfully combing through your hair had you on the edge of sleep, though it may have had something to do with the wine as well.

“Have you ever thought of having your own?”

Tilting your head back further into her lap, your Green eyes searched her dark ones. “My own what?” Internally you knew exactly what she meant, but you were trying to buy some time. One finely arched brow raised in skepticism, as she silently called your bluff.

“You look just like Misha when you do that.”

“Ha! Where do you think he gets it from?” “Seriously though...have you?”

You stopped to think about it for a moment, trying to decide how best to answer. Sure, you'd thought about it. Once upon a time. Previous relationships had stirred those maternal instincts, albeit briefly. You'd always been very good at stamping out those feelings though. You didn't want to bring kids into this world if you were going to be anything like your parents had been. Deciding to not dredge up your unhappy childhood seemed the best course of action, so you answered her as honestly and concisely as you could.

“Yes. Briefly.”

When you didn't elaborate, Vicki let it go with a resigned sigh. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know you can tell me anything right?” Patting her hand, you sat up and stood from the couch. “I get to have fun with Maison and West, and that's enough for me. Pretty sure I'd be a terrible parent, I can’t even keep plants alive.” With a nervous laugh, you took your wine glass and walked back into the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation, a concerned look spread across Vicki's features at your hasty retreat.

The following Thursday found you packing a suitcase once again in preparation for the California convention weekend. The last one of the year. While you adored the muted grey-blue sky of the Pacific Northwest, you were looking forward to a bit of sun. The contents of your bag were eerily similar to that of your first trip with Misha, and it released a flood of memories that you quickly succumbed to.

“What are you thinking about?” The velvet tone of Misha's voice cut through the vivid daydream, bringing you back to the present. You'd never tire of how affectionate Misha and Vicki were. Even the small hand brushes and quick kisses to the forehead showed you how much they genuinely cared.

“Ha, the sun!”

Smiling widely, his bright, beautiful eyes crinkling - he waggled his eyebrows, “you're bringing that little blue number..right?” “I mean, not that I don't love everything about you.. but I wouldn't mind a few people shooting me looks of jealousy when they see the most beautiful woman on the planet on my arm.” It was your turn to be skeptical. While you had zero issues with how you looked, it was a stretch to say you were the most beautiful woman on the planet. Especially with Vicki in the house. Laughing, you told him as much, “I think you've lost track of your senses Mr. Collins - what about your wife?” Nodding in thought, he was quick to agree, “must mean I'm doubly lucky then - I love two of the most beautiful women on the planet.”

He said it so matter-of-factly. Like there was no question. Had he realized what he just said? Twice?

Pensive, you went back to packing when he left the room. Only several minutes later did you realize you hadn't said anything back. Had he noticed? Did you love him? Them? Sure, you'd followed Misha for a few years before landing this job, and you certainly regaled anyone who'd bother to listen with a list of why he was, in your eyes, the perfect person; was it love though?

Misha had accompanied you back to the small apartment that you'd been spending less and less time at. Anymore, it seemed as if you were home only to check in on your cats. Your sister, who had finally come home after extending her trip for an additional several days was away on a business trip to Tennessee now of all places and so, the house was quiet.

When your bags were packed and stacked neatly by the front door, you turned to see that Misha had flopped down on your dilapidated old couch, his bare feet propped up on the wooden coffee table situated before it.

“Wanna watch a movie?” His head fell backwards onto one thick armrest, those gorgeous blue eyes of his drowning you with their intensity as a soft smile twitched at one corner of his mouth. For the first time, you noticed that both of your cats were curled up at the base of the couch, their thick bodies pressed against the back of Misha's long legs.

“I..wha- what is this sorcery?!” They don't like anyone..” Inclining your head towards the animals in question, you remained baffled as the enigma reclining on your couch shrugged nonchalantly.

“So..movie?”

“Uh, yeah..let me just order some grub, I'm starving.” Reaching for your back pocket where your phone had resided while you packed, you'd just pulled it from the denim when Misha chuckled under his breath.

“Already done.” “Pizza will be here in thirty.” “Breadsticks too.”

He was too busy flipping through the Netflix menu to notice the look on your face. Anyone who saw might've called it a look reserved only for those you love - the sigh of contentment you let slip masked by a cough. It was too soon to be in love with him - you couldn't possibly…

Clearing your throat, you made your way over to the couch, hands flying to land on your hips while surveying the filled space.

“And just where do you expect me to sit Mr. Collins? You and th-” a shrill screech punctuated the quiet room when Misha reached up, grabbed a wrist and pulled you down onto his lap.

A solid grunt from him let you know that he hadn't exactly thought out the decision either and it made you laugh, “serves you right..”

The words were whispered against his lips; a light nip at the corner of his jaw accompanying the admonishment. Struggling to get comfortable, you settled for draping your entire body over his - turning your cheek to rest against his wide chest. The steady thudding of his heart instantly comforting, the two of you settled in, Misha selecting one of your favorite Holiday movies.

Lifting your head with a curious expression on your face, you regarded the man who now smiled up at you.

“Since when do you like The Holiday?”

He only smiled in response, mumbling something about liking Jack Black in this particular role.


End file.
